Anywhere I Would Have Followed You
by Dracoisalooker76
Summary: A drunken kiss at a Christmas party starts five months worth of firsts for college junior, Katniss Everdeen. Banner by Ro Nordmann.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

There's a sign on the door made out of pieces of red and green construction paper taped together with holiday-themed duct tape that reads: _I'm dreaming of a white Christmas…but if white runs out I'll drink the red!_ Above it are the RA-designed nameplates that each dorm on campus gets, six of them with the name and their hometown's seal. Finnick…Peeta…Thresh…Cato…Marvel…and the door opens before I can read the last one.

The boy standing in the doorway takes up the entire thing. I can't even see inside to the party, although I can hear it. The door guard crosses his arms and keeps his face in a straight-line as he eyes us. "Who do you know here?" he asks.

Annie steps forward. "I'm on the swim team with Finnick."

He nods, a small flash of recognition on his face and then looks at the rest of us – probably to make sure that Annie didn't bring an army of people with her. He nods. "I'm Thresh. I'm the sober contact tonight so if you run into any problems, let me know."

Johanna pats his arm. His muscles are so large I wouldn't be able to fit both my hands around them. "Alright, hot stuff." She turns to us. "Come on, girls! Let's go."

There's barely enough room to stand without bumping into a sweaty body – and then when you try to untouch that sweaty body you catapult yourself into the sweaty body of the person to the other side. It's not like I'm not sweating either just by walking in. It's December and the second to last weekend before finals so it's a nippy two degrees above freezing during the day. It's ten now, so I can only imagine how much colder it is outside. There must be a seventy-degree difference between the inside of the Townhouse and the outside weather. I tug at the sleeves of my coat.

"Give me your coat," Johanna shouts, hers already off and showcasing her outfit. It's a black crop top and a skintight red skirt she covered in bows from CVS.

I take off my jacket and hand it to her, watching as she and Madge hide our coats under the couch. Once they're back up from the ground, I look around the crowded room.

Why am I here?

It's not that I don't know why I'm here. It all started last Saturday, when Annie came back from her swim meet. The three of us were watching _Elf_ to avoid starting our homework when Annie came barreling in the door.

"I got us invited to Finnick's annual Christmas bash!" she squealed.

Johanna and Madge got all excited and I let them bask in the news. I figured that I would be able to get away with not going by saying I had to stay in and finish a paper. I never go to parties with them; they're not really my thing. I'd much rather have the time alone, pop in a movie, surf the web, just relax, and wait for the three of them to come stumbling in later that night, already on the phone with the local Chinese place to put in their usual order.

"Kat, will you come, please? It's the last weekend of the semester. You won't have homework. Please?" Annie begged. That got Johanna and Madge all bent on the idea and they guilt-tripped me into it, saying they always missed me and we haven't gone out all four of us all semester.

And that's how I got here, in this sweaty hotbox, looking for the nearest exit in the event that the whole place goes up in flames.

Everyone and their brother wants to live in the Townhouses when they're seniors. It's the most popular senior housing. The seventy-six units are separated into four units per row, each with three bedrooms to accommodate six people. They are smack dab in the center of all the housing and the nucleus of partying on campus. I've never really seen the appeal to be honest. The Townies, as they're called, are known to be the most disgusting housing on campus, and given what I'm seeing now I'm not the least bit surprised, but apparently it's tradition to have one. Johanna is already trying to find two more girls to add to our four so we can enter into the lottery for one next year.

I want to get out of here.

Johanna hands me a solo cup. "Drink this, you'll be less miserable." I give her a look. "Look, you're not going to have fun here if you're sober and neither am I because I'm going to be watching you scowl. Get drunk for once in your life, brainless. It's not going to hurt you."

My scowl just sets even further on my face and, when I open my mouth to retaliate, she rolls her eyes. "Trust me," she says, grabbing the cup and taking a sip herself. "You don't even need to get drunk, just tipsy enough so you don't ruin Annie's night."

Johanna points to Annie a few groups of people away in the kitchen. She's standing with Finnick, her hands around her own solo cup, her eyes staring up at him as if he's Zeus or Hercules or something. Annie's had the biggest crush on Finnick since our freshman year and he hasn't even noticed her. But this is her first time getting invited to one of his non-swim parties. I doubt anything will come of it, but we'll let Annie dream.

Turning back to my own cup, I take a gulp and almost spit it back out. "What is that?" I moan.

"Hawaiian Punch, orange juice, mostly vodka." She tugs my hand. "Finish that and we'll go get peppermint schnapps poured in our mouths."

I finish the cup and follow Johanna to the area of the Townie where they're pouring the alcohol in people's mouths. Madge is already there, her mouth open as a dark haired girl pours the chocolate sauce and then peppermint schnapps in her mouth. She swallows and then skips to us. She's already feeling the alcohol a little bit. She, Annie, and Johanna pregamed with the little bit of cheap vodka we had left. I abstained, which is why Johanna's dead set on getting me to drink here.

After the peppermint schnapps and a few sips from Madge's solo cup, I feel light as air. It's a nice feeling. I reach for Madge's solo cup again and Johanna grabs my wrist.

"Hold up. You're done."

"Why?" I ask. "I want more."

Johanna and Madge both laugh, Madge reaching forward to wrap her arms around my shoulders. I don't normally like hugs all that much, but I hug Madge right back. When we let go, Madge's cup is gone and Johanna has finished the last of it off, setting it on the side table beside her.

"I want to play beer pong," Johanna announces, pointing toward the other end of the Townie to where they have a table set up. "Who wants to be my partner?"

I don't like beer. I remember that in my haze. Madge and Johanna head over to the table and I know I should probably follow them, but I don't like beer. And I'm feeling a little dizzy. I walk toward the side of the Townie, pushing through sweaty people and lean against the wall, looking around for my friends. I don't know where they went.

"Hi!"

I look away from a girl who looks like Annie but isn't Annie to the boy beside me. He's very pretty. He has blond curly hair that falls over his forehead in waves and bright blue eyes. The whites of his eyes are red, making them look even bluer with the contrast. The ugliest Christmas sweater I've ever seen currently covers his broad shoulders.

"Aren't you hot?" I ask.

"I don't know, am I?" he jokes. I'm about to nod my head yes when he shakes his. "Just kidding. I'm Peeta!"

He's yelling so I can hear him over the music so I yell too. "Katniss!"

"Hello, Katniss," he says. He smiles. It lights up his whole face. Or maybe that's the Christmas lights on the Christmas tree they have in one corner of the Townie. "So what brings you here?"

I try to find Annie, but I can't find her. "My friend swims."

"Ah," he says, nodding his head. "You know Finn. Great guy."

I don't really know Finnick, just from what Annie has said in the past, and I open my mouth to tell that to Peeta, but the Christmas tree lights flicker in a new pattern and I look over there instead. I push away from the wall and wobble a little in the stupid heels Johanna forced me into.

"Whoa." Peeta reaches out and grabs my hand to steady me. He has really big hands. "How you doing?"

I give him a thumbs up and kick Madge's heels off my feet. "I can't walk in these!"

"I wouldn't be able to either," he says. "But you're not gonna wanna walk around here barefoot. My feet are too big for you, but I could give you a pair of slippers to wear anyway."

Peeta leaves me. All my friends keep leaving me. Am I really not that fun? I should drink more. Johanna told me once that it makes people more fun. I don't know where to find a solo cup so instead I join the line for more peppermint schnapps. I wonder how many bottles they bought. It's like a never-ending cycle.

"Katniss!"

I turn and see Peeta walking back to me with a pair of slippers in his hands. He drops them to the floor and I put my bare feet into them. It feels much better than carpet. I thank him and he takes my hand, pulling me away from the line. I let him. He must live here. I ask him that.

"Yeah, I'm Finnick's roommate," he says, pulling me to the couch and sitting down. I sit down next to him. "I like your outfit."

I look down. Johanna wanted to put me in a black bandeau and a red bodycon skirt. I refused. Annie dressed me in her green skirt and a red tank top and put a belt around my waist with a bow on the clasp so I would look like a present. I'm glad I let Annie dress me now because Peeta likes it.

We're still holding hands. I've never held hands with a boy before. I think I like it.

"Thanks," I say.

He grins. "How do you like the party?"

Now that I'm in this little pocket of the world with Peeta it's not so bad. But when I turn back to all the people dancing and yelling and the music playing so loudly I shake my head. I can't find my friends. What if they left me here? But Johanna wouldn't leave me. Neither would Madge or Annie. They're around here somewhere. Peeta will hang out with me until they come back.

I put my hands over my ears. "It's really loud."

"Do you want to go outside for a minute?" I nod my head. Peeta stands up and guides me toward the back door. I've never been in the backyard of a Townie. They have a patio and a picnic table with a grill. I knew about the grill. Johanna wants to live here so we can grill and tailgate before football games in the fall next year. When Peeta shuts the door behind us, I can still hear the music through the thin walls of the Townie. Peeta sits down on the table and I climb up next to him.

"Is it this loud all the time?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Just the weekends." He smirks. "Not a partier?"

I shake my head. "I got dragged here."

A gust of wind blows through and I shiver. It's kind of chilly outside. Peeta swears under his breath. "I should have brought a coat for you."

I can't remember where I put my coat.

"Do you want to go back in?" I look back at the house and swear I see the walls shaking. I shake my head. Peeta reaches for me. "Let me keep you warm then."

Peeta pulls me toward him and wraps his arms around me. He's so warm! I press my face into his neck to hide from the wind.

I'm in his lap. How I got there I'm not exactly sure. I'm curled up tightly against his chest, his arm around my legs to keep them warm and his other around my back to keep me in place. I look up to see if his eyes are just as pretty a blue up close but it's dark outside and I can't see. He looks at me too.

Peeta is looking at my lips.

"You're really pretty, Katniss," he says, leaning down so his nose can brush against mine. I feel even warmer. "Can I kiss you?"

I've never kissed anyone. I nod.

I don't know what I'm doing so I let Peeta come to me. He slowly comes toward me and presses his lips to mine. He tastes like beer and I don't like beer but I like the feeling. His lips are soft and I try to copy the way they move. Our noses bump each other and Peeta takes my head in his hands, tilting it slightly. We continue kissing until we need to breathe. We separate for a quick second, enough time for me to gulp a few breaths in, before Peeta dives back in.

This kiss is different. I think I'm getting used to what I'm supposed to do now and instead of letting my hands stay at my side, I lift them. But where do I put them? I settle for his shoulders. My nose presses into his cheek and he adjusts my head for me.

I'm in a daze when we finally take a break. My heart beats quickly, echoing in my ears, and even though I feel warm, my fingers are numbing up. As much as I don't want to go back inside, we probably should. Peeta looks like he's coming to the same conclusions as I am.

He takes my hand and leads me back into the Townie, but after being outside it's twice as loud as it was before. I press my face into Peeta's chest. I just want to go home.

I must say that out loud because I can feel Peeta nod. "Let's go find your friends."

There are not many places my friends can go, but with the amount of people still here crowding the bottom floor of the Townie, it takes forever to get from one side to the other. Finally we make it to the kitchen and I see Annie and Finnick talking to Madge and Johanna, who aren't facing me. Annie looks over them and she suddenly goes from not looking happy to looking very happy.

"Katniss!" she squeals. "There you are!"

Madge rushes forward and takes me in her arms and it's awkward because I'm still holding Peeta's hand and my arms stretches uncomfortably. Johanna snickers, but I'm not sure why.

"See, she was safe the whole time," I hear Finnick say.

"Don't disappear on us again, please," Madge says, pulling back and looking toward Johanna and Annie. "Ready to go, girls?"

Johanna walks away to grab our coats from under the couch and I feel Peeta squeeze my hand. I turn back to him and give him a hug. He hugs me back and even kisses the top of my head. When Johanna gets back she helps me put my coat on and I have to let go of Peeta's hand. We say goodbye to Finnick and Peeta and then leave to head to our own dorm.

Johanna throws her arm over my shoulder as we walk. "You better remember this tomorrow, brainless," she says.

…

When I wake up, I feel like I've been run over by a truck. I roll over and look at the clock on my alarm. It's already passed noon and I never sleep this long. I can hear voices in the common room and when I look over to Madge's bed it's empty. They all must be awake already. I sit up, blinking a few times, and notice a cup of water and a bottle of painkillers on my desk next to my bed. I gulp all the water down and toss back two of the pills before stumbling out of bed and into the common room.

"Well, look who decided to grace us with her presence this morning," Johanna says.

I shoot her the best scowl I can come up with and then collapse into the pink butterfly chair Madge has brought to all of the dorms we've lived in. Johanna, well, all three of them actually are staring at me like vultures. I bring my fingers to my nose bridge and squeeze.

"How do you feel?" Madge asks. "You passed out when we got back. Your sesame chicken is in the fridge."

Annie stares at Johanna pointedly. "Well, most of it."

I think back and remember brief moments of Johanna practically pulling me into the dorm, tossing me on the couch, and basically telling me I needed to eat something to soak up alcohol in my stomach. I remember crossing my arms over my chest, shaking my head, and pouting like a toddler. And then when Annie asked, less abrasive than Johanna, if I wanted the same thing she was getting, I agreed wholeheartedly. I must have passed out before it got here.

Johanna shrugs. "I'll pay her back," she says, turning from Annie to me. "Spill it, Katniss. I want to hear about Blondie."

_What? _"Blondie?"

"I know you remember. You weren't drunk enough to black out!" Johanna hisses. "What the hell happened last night with you and Finnick's roommate?"

The thing is: Johanna's right. I wasn't drunk enough to black out as much as I wish I had been. I was kind of wishing it was all just a dream. Did I really pretty much throw myself on a guy I didn't even really meet? I've judged Madge, Johanna, and even Annie for doing the same thing in past. Drunken hook ups are definitely not something I ever foresaw myself doing.

I put my face in my hands and groan.

"Oh, no!" Johanna shouts, jumping over the couch to reach me. She pulls my hands away from my face. "You can't disappear from us and not tell us what happened."

"Jo!" Annie exclaims.

Madge stands up from her chair and walks toward me, sitting down on the floor in front of me and patting my knee. She doesn't say anything and it's something I've grown to like. Madge and I have been roommates since freshman year's random assignment and, although we couldn't be any more different, we're at the point in our friendship where we don't need to talk. Madge understands the embarrassment I'm feeling and she's coming over to support me.

I let out a breath and turn to Johanna. "Peeta."

"What?"

"Blondie. He has a name. It's Peeta."

I tell them everything I remember. Some of it is clearer than others. Johanna barks with laughter when I tell them about our kiss outside and comments about how I really am brainless if I wanted to spend any time outside last night without a coat – _although you were probably plenty warm_. Annie lets out a breath when I tell them that was all we did – I'd like to think I wasn't drunk enough to follow him upstairs, but apparently the three of them were all ready to hop in Madge's car and go to CVS for the morning-after pill. And Madge doesn't even say anything when I realize I forgot her heels at the Townie. I, however, choke on my own spit when I see that Peeta's slippers are currently kicked on the floor of our common room.

"I can't believe I walked back in his slippers!" I moan. "Now I'm going to have to give them back."

"I can do it, Kat," Annie says. "I'll give them to Finnick at practice and have him bring Madge's heels."

Johanna rolls her eyes. "I don't see why you don't want to see him again, brainless. Blondie's gorgeous. Maybe we could finally get you laid."

I must be as red as I feel because Annie and Madge both punch her in either arm.

…

Annie does end up taking the slippers and putting them in her swim bag for Monday's practice and I curl up in bed the rest of the day. I'm going to have to work my butt off to get my work done tomorrow but I can't do any today. My head hurts too much and I wouldn't be able to focus.

On Monday I set my alarm for seven, pack my bag with all my work, and head to one of the dining halls to do my work. I set up my laptop, sprawl my notes around me, and set out to finish my lab report before my lab at three. I have to skip my history class but it's a huge lecture and I aced the midterm. Skipping fifty minutes of a semester long class probably won't hurt me as much as not finishing this lab.

I'm just finishing my conclusion when I decide to grab lunch. I stuff my laptop in my backpack just so it's not visible and walk into the food area. I'm trying to decide if I want a salad or a Panini, when I grind my teeth together and hide behind a stand of potato chips.

Peeta is standing in the deli line, laughing with another tall, broad, blond boy and a shorter dark haired boy. He's facing the entrance so he might have seen me come in and will definitely see me if I try to leave. Maybe he doesn't remember me. If I remember correctly, he was pretty drunk too.

I pull my elastic off the bottom of my braid and quickly pull it apart so it curtains my face. Then I grab a huge bag of something and pretend to read the ingredients. Girls do it all the time here. I probably look crazy, but it's better than being recognized by Peeta. I'd like to put that night behind me.

I steal a peek at the deli line. Peeta is ordering, his back to me. I spin around and head straight for the cashier, only dropping the bag on the counter when I'm sure my face can't be seen by Peeta if he turns around. I all but sprint out of the food area, stuff all my notes in my backpack, and use the far door of the dining hall to leave.

…

There are close to ten thousand people at this school and it has never felt as small as it does now. Since seeing Peeta at the dining hall, I've run into him three times. Once on my way out of the science building after my lab. Another time when I went for a run around campus. And now.

Since we're at dinner, I don't have my backpack or anything else to put in front of my face so I just put my sweatshirt hood up and look down.

"Katniss, stop hiding," Jo hisses, pulling my hood off. "You look like a freak."

"Hello, ladies," Finnick says as he steps forward. He sets his food down on our table as he turns to talk to Annie, something about practice being moved or something. The rest of his friends haven't followed him as he wandered through the tables to us. All six of them are there, including Peeta and the other two boys I saw at lunch.

Peeta and I make eye contact. He lifts his hand to wave and I look down at the table.

"Oh, right, and we have those heels you wanted," Finnick finishes as he picks up his to-go container. "Sorry I forgot them at practice today. But we're heading back now so if you guys want to stop by on your way back we'll be there."

"Yeah, that'd be great," Annie says. "We'll be over soon."

Finnick grins and looks around our table. "Ladies." I swear he smirks in my direction.

"You really are brainless. Blondie can't take his eyes off you," Jo says, turning her head so she can watch the group of boys meet up and walk out. "You could totally get yourself laid if you wanted to."

"Jo," Madge cries, giving her a look.

"Ugh, can we just stop," I say, clenching my hands and taking a few deep breaths. "Okay?"

"Okay," Johanna says. She holds her hands up in the air in mock surrender. She turns to Madge. "Enlighten us on whatever weird shit happened in your creative writing class today."

Madge starts telling us about the fox-faced girl in her class whose story was being critiqued that day and apparently it was a really graphic dystopian setting where kids were forced to kill each other. Madge hated it, said it gave her the creeps, and the others agree. I'm paying attention enough to nod along but I can tell I'm zoning out because I don't hear much else about the plot.

Instead my mind goes to Peeta and I get angry with myself. Of course he's eyeing me like that – he thinks now that he has this thing going that maybe he can hook up with me. I know what happens on this campus during the parties. People find hook up partners. I'm not interested in that. I'm not really interested in love at all right now. I'm interested on my studies and doing well in school so I don't lose my scholarship. My parents would absolutely kill me.

Madge taps my shoulder. "Come on, Katniss. Time to go."

I let out a breath and follow behind the rest of them. We drop our dishes at the racks and then head out into the brisk night. When we turn into the Townhouses, I forget for a moment that we told Finnick we'd stop by for Madge's shoes and almost say something. But I remember so I just keep toward the back of our group. Luckily the other three are talking about something and don't really notice – or if they do they don't say anything, which is a rarity really.

We knock on number seventy-five and hear a few voices yelling for someone to get the door. There's a loud set of footsteps that we can even hear outside, almost like someone is running, and then a bellow of laughter we can hear through the closed door. Finally it opens and Peeta is standing in front of us.

"Hey, girls, come in. Finn's just getting your shoes."

I realize when we walk in that, no, Finnick is _not_ getting the shoes. Finnick is lounging on the couch, his salmon all but forgotten in its plastic to-go container on the coffee table, and yelling at the television. It's a basketball game of some sort. I can't tell the teams.

"NO!" he shouts. The red team scored a basket. He's obviously rooting green.

"Finnick, I thought you were getting the shoes," says one of the boys sitting in a chair. He and Peeta exchange a look and then laugh. The other four of them are too focused on the television to notice.

"Whatever, someone else get the – OH! For God's sakes, make a fucking shot for once in this game!"

The boy who asked, the sober contact at the party whose name I can't seem to remember, turns with a shake of his head. He shrugs as if to say _what are you gonna do?_ "I'll get 'em," he says, standing up and walking toward the stairs.

Peeta turns to the four of us with a smile. Does he have to be so polite and nice? Why couldn't he be a douche? It'd be so much easier to live with what I did if he was.

"He left them on his desk this morning," Peeta tells us. "They didn't end up in his bag."

"I think he just has a fetish," the blond who was with Peeta at lunch says, his eyes still glued to the TV.

Finnick shakes his head but keeps his eyes on the game. "Shut up, Cato. I know where you sleep."

There's a timeout and it cuts to commercial just as footsteps are heard on the stairs. It's almost as if we're in a whole different room. All of the boys turn and give us their attention. I keep to the back of our group, attempting to hide behind Madge. They exchange small talk for a few minutes, Madge gets her shoes, and we make to leave. Peeta, the goddamn gentleman he is, escorts us to the door. Unfortunately, my hiding place means I'm the last one out.

"See you around, Katniss," he says. I look up, a little in shock that he remembers my name, and see that he's smiling. It's not cocky either. It's the just the right mixture of shy and confident to be genuine.

"Sure," I blurt out before hustling out the door behind my friends.

Johanna laughs as soon as the door's shut but she doesn't say anything for once.

…

I have a pretty strict schedule that I follow most days of the week. I get up in the morning and go for a run. Then I come back and shower before my first class of the day. I go to class, staying on campus in between so I can actually do work, and then head back to the dorm unless I have something I need to get done. If that's the case, I hole myself up in a library or in the corner of a dining hall.

On Thursday I'm in the library.

I have a lot to do for next week, which are the last few days of classes for the semester. I have a final paper and an exam in physics. After that, I have two days to study before I start my almost never-ending stream of finals. I'd like to get my paper finished except for final editing tonight.

When I have a lot of work I find the most remote corner of the library on the bottom floor to set up my things. Most people use the main floor and the two floors above. No one ever thinks about going to the basement. There are usually only a few other people with me. Tonight there's one other kid, a boy on his laptop who looks like he needs a shot of 5-hour Energy or something because I'm afraid he's going to doze and crash his head straight into his keyboard.

I let my fingers fly across the keys, busting out the first page in under an hour – only eleven more to go to get the minimum page limit. I crack my neck. It's going to be a long night.

"Big paper?"

I jump in my seat and literally feel my heart skip a beat. I look at my paper and see that my fingers slammed the keyboard when I jumped. Now the beginning of my new paragraph says: "Breaking down the phrase, we can see Augustine's greatest ijeoga p." I delete the new addition and look up.

Peeta nods to the chair in front of me on the other side of the table. "Mine if I join you?"

What am I supposed to say? No? I shrug and he sits.

"What are you working on?" he asks as he reaches into his backpack and removes his laptop. He puts it on the table and fires it up.

"Paper," I mumble. He gives me a look that tells me he wanted to know the subject. Duh, of course I'm working on a paper. "St. Augustine, specifically the _Confessions_."

He nods. "Theology core?" I nod. "Nice. I've got a date with James Joyce tonight. We can double with you and Augustine."

I find myself chuckling despite myself and try to stop. He grins and pulls out a worn copy of _Ulysses_. "Want my advice?" he says, leaning a little toward me. "Never take _Irish Lit_. Professor Coin's a hard ass."

"Not a problem," I say. "I'm not an English major."

He grins. "What are you then?"

"Biology."

Peeta sets _Ulysses_ down on the table and whistles softly. "Smarty," he says. "You science majors are tough as nails. You might be able to handle her after all."

I look down at my laptop as to not start laughing. English isn't my best subject. I'm not very good at putting things into words.

We work for a little bit. The only noises in the basement are our fingers against the keyboards and the soft snores of the boy at the other table. It's about an hour later when he startles awake, looks at the time, and gives up. He packs his things away and walks out, leaving me and Peeta alone. Peeta keeps working for a few minutes but I'm hyper aware of when he takes his earbuds out of his ears.

"Want anything from the vending machine?"

I shake my head but he still comes back with two candy bars – a Twix and a Milky Way – and he holds them out to me so I can choose. "If it's going to be a long night, we'll need some sugar." I just stare at them. "Come on, Katniss. Just take one."

He ends up with the Twix.

Peeta shuts his laptop while he eats and I try to hide behind mine. I've almost successfully avoided Peeta all week and he must have checked every inch of the library before settling on a spot in order to see if I was in the library at all. Or maybe he was just lucky. I'd much rather like to think he's a creep. It's easier to hate a creep.

He taps his fingers on his laptop. "So are you pre-med?" When I don't say anything, he rubs the back of his neck. "Sorry if that's presumptuous. It just seems that every bio major I meet is going to medical school."

I shake my head. "No. I'm not pre-med. I don't like blood."

"Really?" He cocks his head to the side in this really innocent and childlike way, kind of like he's trying to wrap his head around something important. "So how do you do bio?"

"I don't take anatomy lab."

He chuckles. "No skinning cats for you?"

"If it was my sister's cat, I'd skin it in a heartbeat."

I can't believe I just said that and to an almost complete stranger no less. Peeta doesn't seem to think anything of it though. He just laughs a little louder. I'm glad we're in the basement; we'd get kicked out on the other floors. "I'm guessing you and her cat don't get along." I shake my head.

He leans back a little in his chair. I run my fingers over the touchpad to wake my computer up. I don't want to be the first one to start typing again, it seems a little rude, but this awkward silence is really cutting into my essay time. I'd really like to not pull an all-nighter.

My resolve to not seem rude fades with that and I grab the _Confessions _and start typing again. Peeta seems to realize that our little chat is over and puts his earbuds back in. His head bobs a little with the music as he types.

Essays really aren't my strong suit. It always takes me forever to write them. Memorization and exams come easier. When midnight strolls through, then one, then two, I wonder if maybe I should just stop, put my books away, and come again tomorrow. I look over at Peeta and he's typing furiously. I wonder how long his paper has to be.

At two thirty I shut my laptop to call it a night. Peeta looks up and shuts his too.

"You couldn't have just finished," I mutter.

He shakes his head. "Nah, Joyce and I parted ways," he says, starting to pack up as well. "I figured I'd work on application essays as long as you were working. Sometimes it helps to have someone so focused next to you."

I nod and we both put on our coats. Are we really going to walk out of here together? What have I done to deserve this? I couldn't have made out with the guy who wants as little to do with me as I want to do with him, could I? Where the hell are all the guys who Madge and Johanna have gotten with all these years, the ones who avoid your eye?

We walk out into the night in relative silence, which I think must be hard for Peeta because he keeps opening and closing his mouth like guppy. I try to send him vibes not to say anything. He's doing well. We're almost at the place where we'll need to separate so he can go to the Townhouses and I can go to my dorm.

We get to our separation place and I give him a quick nod goodbye before turning toward my dorm. I think I've lost him when I hear my name being shouted.

"Hey, Katniss, wait!" I turn around and Peeta is rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, do you want to get coffee or hot chocolate or something tomorrow?"

I can feel my eyes grow wide. "What?"

"Look, I'm just going to come right out and say it," he says. "I think you're cool and I'd like to get to know you a bit better than a drunken kiss on a picnic table. What do you say?"

I don't say anything. I nod dumbly though and manage to get Peeta's number programed into my phone. It's all mostly done in a daze and I walk back to the dorm on autopilot. That night I can't sleep. My head is spinning too much to close my eyes.

I think I just agreed to go out on a date.

…

The Cornucopia is a small café-style dining hall on campus where students tend to go between classes because they have the best coffee. They also have other specialty drinks, cocoas, ciders, frappes, as well as a case of bakery items and sweets. Through my classes, my heart was pounding in my chest so loudly that I could barely pay attention. I half hope that Peeta decided to stand me up.

But that's not the case. Peeta already has cookies on the table when I arrive. When I inspect them, they aren't Cornucopia cookies. I think he brought them himself.

"I didn't know what you'd want for a drink," he says, almost sheepishly although I don't know why. "I would have had that ready too."

I shake my head. "It's fine."

When we walk to the counter, I try to remember everything that I have ever heard about dates. Am I supposed to pay for Peeta since he brought cookies? Or, maybe it's not a date and I'm supposed to just pay for myself. I guess I'll figure it out when we get to the cashier.

"Hey, Clove, what's up?" Peeta says as he gets to the counter. The cashier is a small girl with dark hair. I've seen her around the science building before but I can't place her.

"Hey, Peeta!" she says, going from looking bored to suddenly interested. "That was a great party last weekend. Are you having another one?"

"Nope, we're all done for the semester, although Finn's trying to weasel us into having an unregistered," Peeta tells her. "It's not going to happen though."

She shrugs. "Well, we're having one tomorrow night. Glimmer picked the theme: Have A Slutty Christmas. You guys are more than welcome."

"Thanks," he says. "I'm sure Finn and Cato would appreciate the theme."

"I know, I saw Cato's get up last weekend," she says rolling her eyes. "Ugh. Anyway, what can I get you?"

"I'm going to have tea, just milk no sugar." Then he turns to me. "Katniss, what do you want?"

I guess he wants to buy for me. "I can buy my own," I start, but he shakes his head and points up to the menu.

"No way, my treat," he says. "What do you want?"

After the solid conversation between Peeta and Clove, I feel extraordinarily out of place. They seem so comfortable together and here I am awkwardly following behind. I mumble the first thing my eyes land on – hot chocolate – and Peeta orders it, and then decides, since there's no line behind us, that he can introduce me to Clove while we wait.

"Clove, this is Katniss," he says, nodding his head in my direction. He turns to me. "Clove and I lived in the same building freshman year. Nothing bonds you like getting written up together the first weekend you're in college."

She smiles, but I can see her look at me curiously, or maybe maliciously. She's probably trying to figure out what I'm doing with Peeta. "Nice to meet you, Katniss," she says, finally, after a long pause.

When our orders are ready, Peeta puts his hand on my upper back to guide me away back to our table. I shudder, or shiver, under his touch. I'm not sure which.

"How were your classes?" Peeta asks as we sit.

I only had history today. "Fine, you?"

He smirks. "I don't have class on Fridays." Then he pats his backpack. "I did have to drop off the monster I was working on last night to Coin's mailbox before noon though."

"Sounds taxing."

He snorts and brings his cup to his lips, taking a long swig before setting it back down on the table. "I wasn't sure I'd make it."

It's meant as a joke, but I can't help looking at Peeta's body. He's not out of shape – in fact, he's far from it. Broad shoulders, muscular frame, he looks like an athlete in a completely different way from Finnick. But he's not an athlete, not that I know of at least. I don't really know what he does.

"So, Katniss, what's your favorite color?"

I have to shake my head to get back to reality. I open my mouth to answer, but he continues, not letting me speak.

"I realize we didn't really meet in the…" he deliberates over his wording for a minute "…most proper way. But, like I said, I want to get to know you better and I think the best way is to share. So, what's your favorite color? Mine's orange."

"Orange?" I blurt out without thinking. When I think of orange it's not the most pleasant color. I think of the bright obnoxious orange that I've always had an aversion to, even as a child. It didn't help the color when Prim found that mangy orange cat and brought it home.

Peeta ducks his head sheepishly and I wonder if I've hurt his feelings with my outburst. He shakes his head and chuckles nervously. "Not the orange you're thinking of," he says. "More like…have you ever paid attention to the sunset?" I nod. "That kind of orange. The one that bleeds with the pinks and reds of the sky. It's softer and gentler. That orange – not the in-your-face Halloween shade."

He literally just spun poetry about a color without even flinching. He must think that the look on my face is because I'm more appreciative of his favorite color, but I'm actually just in awe of his words. How does he do that? There's no way I can make my color sound nearly as wonderful.

"I like green."

He nods and eyes the Christmas tree in the corner of the room. "Green. I'll keep that in mind."

Time flies in the Cornucopia and it's mostly just back and forth questions about each other, interspersed with a small amount of banter and many cookies, all of which I find out that Peeta made. From scratch. His parents own a bakery in his hometown in New Jersey. His mother wasn't thrilled with his decision to be an English major, especially when he was accepted to PCU's business school and then transferred into the school of education in his second semester, concentrating in secondary education. His inflections change when he talks about his dad. He tells me that he's the one who taught him the recipe for the cookies that I scarf down. After graduation he's looking to do some sort of post-graduate volunteer work and one in Ecuador caught his eye about a year ago because it involves teaching. That application was the one he was working on last night while we were in the library. Ultimately he wants to be a middle school teacher and he laughs when he tells me that he and his brothers have perfected the cookie-cutter triad of predictable careers – teacher, doctor, and the business man who will take over the bakery. I want to ask why his mother wanted him to go to business school if his older brother is already being groomed to take over the bakery, but I don't. It sounds like a sour subject.

My stories aren't nearly as interesting as his. I'm a bio major. A junior. I still don't know what I want to do when I graduate. Basically everything that Peeta knows and already has planned I don't. He just shrugs and tells me that it's fine not to know – Marvel still doesn't and they're graduating in May.

We also exchange just random facts – favorite colors, if we like the windows opened or closed when we sleep, he doesn't put sugar in his tea and I don't really drink tea without it. We both don't like coffee but he enjoys the smell of it.

We sit and talk in the Cornucopia for so long the sun sets outside and it's nearly dinnertime. We end up eating dinner at one of the nearby dining halls and continuing our debate over which _Harry Potter_ was the best book – for the record, it's the first, not the third like he insists. We agree to disagree.

It doesn't even cross my mind to say no when he asks if I want to go into the city with him tomorrow to see the Christmas tree lighting until I'm punching in the code to my room. I rest my head against the door. I've just unknowingly agreed to a second date with Peeta and I'm not sure I even wanted the first.

...

_Peeta Mellark [sent at 3:32pm]: The lighting starts at six, so want to catch the subway around 5ish?_

_Sounds good to me. Meet at the station? [Delivered 3:32pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [sent at 3:33pm]: I have to walk right by your dorm to get there. We can walk together._

_Okay I'll meet you outside the building? [Delivered 3:34pm]_

"Who the hell are you texting?"

I look up from my phone and hold it protectively in my hands, as if one of them is going to steal it. To be honest, it wouldn't surprise me. "None of your business," I say.

Jo rolls her eyes. "It is my business when your buzzing goes off every five seconds. It's distracting me from the movie." She waves her hand in front of the TV. "I've skipped back three times already. At least turn the goddamn thing on silent."

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:34pm]: Sounds great!_

I send him a smiley face and then go into my settings to turn vibrate off, keeping it face up in my lap so I can see if the screen illuminates with a new message. I'm not disappointed.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:36pm]: Dress warm it's supposed to be cold tonight!_

I find a snowman emoticon with a scarf and send it to him. Then I set the timer on my phone to go off in about forty minutes so it will give me time to get out of my pajamas and into actual clothes before I have to go meet him.

Once the movie ends, Madge sticks in a _Friends_ DVD and I use it as my cue to go get ready. I throw on a pair of jeans, a sweater, and a pair of thick socks to keep my feet warm in my boots. Then I grab my jacket, mittens, and a scarf, stealing a quick glance at my phone to see the time. I have about fifteen minutes before I should go down. I go back out and sit in my chair, resetting my alarm to make sure I leave on time.

"Where are you going?" Madge asks.

I bite my lip. "The Christmas tree lighting downtown."

"Gee, thanks for the invite," Johanna says, lifting her head from where she's laying on the couch to look at me. "Who are you going with?"

I haven't actually told my friends about Peeta yet. The night of the library they were all in bed when I got back and then the next day I was out the door before any of them woke up. When I came back that night, they must have figured I got dinner on my own because I was working on my school stuff. They were already comfortably talking by someone else with food trays and the television on. How am I supposed to bring it up? Just casually blurt out to the room _oh by the way I'm going to the Christmas tree lighting with Peeta tomorrow_?

I play with a loose thread on my sweater. "Peeta."

Madge gets it first – her eyes widen almost comically and she turns her head to me so quickly I can hear her muscles strain. Johanna almost seems like she's trying to figure out why the name is so familiar. Then she looks at me too.

"Holy shit! Blondie?" I nod. "You're going to the tree lighting with the guy you hooked up with at Finnick's party?" I nod again. "How did he get your number? Annie wouldn't have given it to Finnick. Did you give it to him when you were drunk?"

I shake my head. "No…I…well, he found me in the library and we talked and then the next day we went to the Cornucopia and then we got dinner–"

"You got dinner?" Jo exclaims.

"And you didn't tell us?" Madge actually seems a little hurt.

I look back down at the thread on my sweater. "What was I supposed to say?"

"Uh, I got dinner with Blondie," Jo says, sounding like she wants to add a really long duh to the end of it.

The door to the dorm opens and Annie walks in, dropping her swim bag on the floor and dragging her feet into the common room, collapsing on the floor. She does this sometimes when she gets back from a swim meet. She flips herself over so she's on her back and looking up at us. I can tell what she's going to ask before she does it – it's rare that she comes back from a meet and we're are dressed in anything but sweats or pajamas.

"Where you off to, Kat?"

Jo replies before I can. "On a date."

Annie sits up and her mouth drops. "What? With who?"

Madge answers this time. "Finnick's roommate."

Annie at least breaks into a smile. "Aww, yes," she says. "You guys are cute together."

"It's just the tree lighting. It's not even really a date," I lie.

Johanna rolls her eyes. "It's most definitely a date. Unless he brings his contingency of roommates, in which case I expect you to text us an invite, it's a date."

"Yeah, Katniss, you've already gotten dinner together and he paid for you. It's totally a date," Madge says. She eyes me. "Is that not what you want?"

My roommates have heard my 'I don't need a boyfriend' speech more times than they can count in the past three years. It's always been true. I haven't needed one. I'm not here for an MRS degree, I'm here to learn. But maybe this isn't so much about necessity as it is about desire.

I feel my phone vibrate in my lap. _Peeta Mellark [sent at 4:56]: Heading over now. See you soon!_

"I have to go," I say, standing up. They yell after me but I don't answer, shutting the door quickly behind me as I go.

…

Despite there being no snow on the ground yet, the downtown area where they are lighting the tree is festive for the season. Every bit of the tree is covered in lights and there are wreaths on every building. Santa sits in a sleigh being pulled by a horse through the crowds, stopping to say hello to the children every once in a while. It's a bitter night so the event organizers have six or seven hot chocolate stands and everyone I see seems to have a cup. A local band plays Christmas carols on the stage they have set up for the actual start of the event.

Peeta puts his arms around my shoulders when I shiver. It shocks me at first and I feel myself going stiff. But it doesn't mean anything. He's just trying to keep me warm. I try to relax a little and lean my back a little into his chest for warmth.

"I've never actually gone to this before," I tell him. In my three winters at school, we've never gone into the city for the tree lighting. We have our own smaller one on campus that I've been to once before, but it doesn't compare to this.

"What do you think?" he asks.

"I like it."

Peeta puts his chin on my head. "I'm glad."

Caesar Flickerman, the local television news anchor, starts the event by shouting into the crowd for Santa to come help him start the countdown. Once Santa is escorted through the crowd to the stage, the two ask the crowd to help them with counting down from ten. There are a group of kids next to us who jump up and down, screaming each number as we count. I can feel Peeta turn to look at them and his chest bounces against my back as he chuckles.

The tree lights up with multi-color lights and a giant star at the top. Everyone begins to cheer and Peeta squeezes my shoulders. I've never felt more comfortable than in this moment. There are others like Peeta and I, couples of people standing together with their hands clasped or their arms locked. Why am I comfortable with this when I still barely know Peeta? We met a week ago and yet I feel good being here. Maybe it's just Peeta's easy nature with people. It must be.

Instead of push our way through the subway, Peeta and I decide to take a walk around the decorated downtown until the after-lighting crowd has passed. It's cold, but we stay warm enough as we walk.

"I love this time of year," Peeta says. I give him a funny look and he smirks at my implication. "Not because it's Christmas and gifts but because everything just seems so peaceful. People are so spirited, you know?"

Looking around at all the shop windows with lights in their windows, I understand what he means.

After a walk through the shops, we're too cold to care about crowds and head to the subway. Most of the people have already gone through and normal Saturday night outbound traffic is what we ride with back to campus. We're fairly alone, with maybe one or two others, when the train stops at our school, which happens to be the last stop on this particular line. It's a quick walk through campus before we arrive at my dorm.

"I had a really good time," I tell him. "Thank you."

"No, thank _you_. It would have been pretty lonely by myself," he jokes. Then he smiles the smile that always gets me, the one that's just a touch too shy for such a suave and charming boy like Peeta. "But in all seriousness, I had a really good time too, Katniss."

He rings his hands together. "I mean, you probably have a ton of stuff to do now, but do you want to come back to my place and watch a movie or something? I just…I guess I'm not ready for the night to be over." Before I can say anything, he groans. "God that sounded bad. You don't have to. I'll just see you sometime, okay?"

He spins around, stuffing his hands in his pockets and starting to walk toward the Townhouses. My mind doesn't think; I just react. In fact, it is such an impulse that I miss the few seconds it takes me to shout Peeta's name, run to his side, and take his hand. This is the first time in my life, I realize after, that I'm not doing something because I have to do it. I study because I have to in order to get a good grade. I go to class so I can learn. I work during the summer to pay for my books. But I take Peeta's hand because I want to, not because it's necessary. I let that desire that pools in the bottom of my gut take over.

His roommates are gone and Peeta only lets go of my hand to rush around tidying up their mess. There are shot glasses on the counter and an open handle next to them that Peeta hurries to put away.

"Sorry about the mess," he says. I shake my head and look around the Townie. It seems so much bigger as compared to the last time. Maybe it has to do with the fact that it's just Peeta and me in this place. I shoot a text to Madge to let her know I'm back on campus so they don't feel the need to wait for me and then move into the living area while Peeta scurries in the kitchen.

When he comes into the living area with me, he grabs a couple binders full of DVDs and opens it to me. "Take a peek, see what interests you," he says. "We can watch it down here on the TV or on my laptop upstairs – it'll be quieter up there once the music starts next door. Whatever you want."

Between the six of them, they have a large DVD collection. I pick something I think we'll both enjoy and hand it over to him. He grins when he takes the disc. "_Good Will Hunting._ Great choice."

"Let's go upstairs," I tell him. It'll be more comfortable to lounge in the bed, kick our feet up, and I really don't want to feel the vibrations of the music next door halfway through the movie.

"Awesome, come on." He directs me to the stairs and we climb to the second floor. He becomes a tour guide, pointing things out as we go. "This is Marvel and Cato's room," he says, pointing to the door at the top of the stairs. "The bathroom, here's another shower – weird, I know, but it comes in handy with six of us – Thresh and Woof's room right there and then me and Finn over here."

His room is on the far end with the window facing the backyard. Finnick's bed is under the window while Peeta shares a wall with Thresh and Woof. His bed is on the highest setting so he can fit a dresser under it and he has to lift me to get up on it. His bed is comfortable though just as I expected. His wall is covered with pictures and drawings. I look around while he gets everything situated. Above his bed he has a picture of the six of his roommates, one that looks like him and his father when he was maybe four or five. He's covered in flour in the latter one. I bet it was taken in the bakery.

"All set," he says, leaping up onto the bed.

He leans back into his pillows and puts his computer on the shelf at the end of his bed. He opens his arms and I fall into him, cuddling into his side. I remind myself as the movie starts that we met a week ago. Is this too fast? Probably, but I can't seem to make myself stop.

"Is this okay?" Peeta asks. I nod.

I can't get into the movie no matter how hard I try. I'm too aware of Peeta to pay attention. From my place carefully tucked into his side I can feel each inhale and exhale of his lungs. I wonder if the thumping I feel is his heart or mine.

…

For the last four days of school before study days begin and the dreaded week of finals kicks into gear, Peeta and I fall into a steady rhythm. We get lunch together between our classes and work in the library. Upon finding out, Jo dubbed us nerds, but considering everyone is stressed with work that's really all the time we have to be around the other. Plus, since he's in mostly English classes, Peeta only has one sit down final and it's on the first day. The rest are papers that he has to pass in the last day of classes.

"So, what are you guys actually doing?" Madge asks one night toward the end of the week.

"I don't know."

She turns in bed and looks at me through the darkness. "You should figure that out. Make sure you guys are on the same page," she suggests.

That night I stay awake long after Madge falls asleep, my brain unable to shut down. As much as I usually like things in black and white, I've enjoyed not having to put a name on whatever Peeta and I are doing. It makes me feel like less of a hypocrite. But I know Madge's right. She has more experience with this than I do. But what do I want? I value the friendship we've made but as much as I want to deny it I know I'm attracted to him too.

Why do I want to deny it? Because I'm selfish and worried about myself? That's part of it. What if Peeta doesn't want that? And what if he does? I'm scared of that too. I've never wanted that before. I've always tried to keep my mind focused everywhere else when I've thought about it.

It's on our walk back from the library on Thursday night, the music already blaring through the Townhouses because no one ever works on the night before study days begin, that I just blurt it out.

"What are we doing?"

Peeta turns to me, a joke on his tongue but he refrains from asking it. From the way his breath hitches to the way he licks his lips, I know I don't need to expand. He knows what I'm asking.

We stand in our spot, the moment where we need to part for him to go one way and me go the other, for a few long minutes of silence – or maybe it's really only seconds but it feels like eternity.

"I really like you, Katniss," he says finally. "I wasn't looking for anything serious this year because I have no idea where I'm going to be when I graduate, but then I met you. At first it was just the physical attraction, but then I really got to know you and you're so amazing."

He takes my hand in his. "I don't know what's going to happen in May, so I understand if you don't want to try this, but I'm willing to go as far as you want to go."

This is the moment where I have to choose. I could say no, keep my heart intact, and go about my merry way, peacefully ignorant of the beauty and chaos of a relationship. Or, I could say yes. I could tell him that I want to take it as far as we can. I could take the risk, not knowing what is in front of me.

I squeeze his hand and smile. "Let's see where it goes."

Peeta brings his other hand to my cheek and leans down to meet me. The kissing that I remember from the party was awkward and slobbery. It was nice in a way that I felt gratified that someone wanted to kiss me. This is something entirely different.

It's not hurried and our lips move together in a sync we didn't have when we were both drunk. As cliché as it sounds, I feel the butterflies, the beginning of a hunger in my stomach that can only be satiated by Peeta. But, as soon as it starts, Peeta pulls away and delivers one small peck to my forehead.

"I've wanted to do that for a while."

Now that he's said it, I feel like I can admit to the feeling as well.

…

Prim jumps up and down next to my father at the airport, looking more like a five-year-old than someone whose seventeenth birthday is right around the corner. Once I pass through security, she's rushing toward me, wrapping her arms around my neck and squealing in such a high pitch that I can barely make out what she's saying.

"Primmy, calm down," I say, but I feel the same as her. I haven't been home since the end of August. Four months is a long time.

"I've missed you so much!"

Our father laughs and puts a hand on her shoulder. "Quit hoggin' her, Duck."

When we were younger, Prim and I used to follow our father everywhere. It was mostly me following after him and Prim following me. Our mother used to call us his ducklings. The name stuck and he still occasionally uses it as a pet name. It's nice to hear because it means I'm home.

Prim lets go reluctantly and my father takes me in his arms. He smells like coal and it's oddly comforting.

"Come on, girls," he says after we've collected my suitcase from the luggage turnstile. "Home we go."

Dad throws the luggage in the bed of the truck and Prim jumps into the cab. I take this time to pull out my phone and waiting for it to power on. Then I send a text to Peeta.

_I just landed. Safe and sound [Delivered at 2:49pm]_

I hop in the truck besides Prim. We talk with what must sound like meaningless chatter. We talk about my classes, Prim's soccer season, the piano recital she's preparing for, how many times I went to church while I was at school (I lie on that one – Dad wouldn't appreciate knowing I went maybe once). We're just pulling off 119 to Route 85, almost home, when I feel the vibration in my pocket.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:38pm]: Have a nice flight?_

My fingers fly across the screen, telling him that it was fine and asking how he's doing at the bakery. I send it, set it down in my lap, and feel Prim's intent stare. She smirks.

"Was that the boy?"

Prim called me fourteen minutes after Peeta and I made our relationship 'Facebook official' despite it being two in the morning on a school night. I thought doing it that early in the morning would help with the influx I'd get. It didn't. Madge, Johanna, and Annie all insisted on telling me everything that they thought I'd need to know from the moment they found out to the moment we separated for break. After telling Prim to go back to sleep and that I'd talk to her the next day, she texted me through the day and then called as soon as she stepped off the bus from school. And even though my parents don't have Facebook, because Prim knows everyone in town knows, so I know they do too.

Dad doesn't say anything, but Prim keeps looking at me with her big eyes begging for information. I know she has stalked him online already so I don't need to tell her anything she can find out there. She wants to know the other stuff – how we met, what he's like, stuff like that. But right now Peeta's texts are coming through and I'll have the entire break to talk to Prim.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:40pm]: The bakery's fine. I'm in the front and we've got a little bit of a lull now. Are you almost home?_

_Yep. We're about fifteen minutes away [Delivered at 3:40pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:41pm]: Well then I won't keep you from them. We can talk when they get bored with you ;)_

_Haha. That might be sooner than you think [Delivered at 3:41pm]_

I slip my phone in my pocket and look out the window, watching the rolling hills. We pull into town and finally our driveway. I can see Momma at the kitchen window as we all hop out. She comes to greet us at the door and gives me a hug. I get my quiet nature from her.

"Oh, it's good to have you back," she says finally after she lets go. Prim walks into the house under my arm and picks up Buttercup. The demon is the only one not happy to see me. He hisses from Prim's arms.

…

"This is my room. It's not anything special, but at least I don't have to share," I say, taking the computer and circling the room. I cleaned a little when we decided to Skype each other.

Peeta smiles. "Your room literally looks like a forest it's so green!"

It is. I have a green bedspread and a green area rug that covers the wood. The walls are also green, but a softer mintier color than I would have liked. But, when I painted it at ten, my mother didn't think forest green was suitable for a wall.

I flop back down on my bed, lying on my stomach and look at the screen. Peeta's in his own room and it's not orange. His walls are gray and his bedspread almost looks flannel.

"How's home?"

He shrugs. "It's good. A little frantic, like it always is around the holidays trying to make sure we have everything set, orders ready. Rye's driving in from Columbia tomorrow and Dad's all worried he's going to be driving through the snow." He rolls his eyes but smiles good-naturedly. "But he'll be the first one to ask him tomorrow what took him so long."

There's a knock on my door and then it opens. Prim walks into the room. "Mom says that dinner's almost ready," she says. She eyes me, looking between my position and my laptop. Before I know it, she's jumped into bed beside me, bouncing on the mattress ungracefully and hitting my arm. "Is this _the boy_?"

My cheeks must be a dark shade of red. She takes this as an answer.

"Hi, I'm Prim!" she says, waving at the screen.

Peeta grins and fights a few chuckles at Prim's behavior. "The sister with the devil cat," he says. Prim turns to me for a split second to glare, but then looks back at the screen. "I'm Peeta."

"Dinner's almost ready, so I gotta go," I say, hitting Prim's shoulder with my own. She doesn't take the hint to leave. "Talk to you soon?"

"Of course, I'll text you later." He gives me that lopsided grin that makes my stomach twist. "Nice to meet you, Prim."

We disconnect and Prim rolls over on her back, clutching her hands to her heart. I roll my eyes and put the laptop on my desk. She scrambles up to watch me, her face splitting in a smile from ear to ear.

"Oh my goodness, he's so cute!" Prim squeals. "He's got such a funny voice."

My sister has never been above the Mason-Dixon line and not really outside of our small town. While Peeta doesn't have a thick New Jersey accent like the ones in the movies, he does sound different from the people who live in our town. I suppose I've gotten used to it after spending three years in the north.

"He does not."

Prim giggles. "Aww, Kitty-Kat, you're blushing!"

"Come on, you," I say, walking toward the door. "Dinner."

…

Usually I love going home for break. I never go home during the semester, considering the only longish break we have is Thanksgiving and that's only a few weeks before break. Since Madge lives thirty minutes from campus and has plenty of room for one more at her family's feast, I go there for the holiday rather than spend money on back-to-back plane tickets. This year, however, when January rolls around, I'm excited to get back to school.

And it completely terrifies me.

Peeta and I texted, called, and Skyped all through break and I'm not entirely sure how relationships are supposed to work, but I feel like I'm getting way too attached way too quickly. We've only known each other for about a month now but I can hardly remember what it was like before I knew him.

I step through security at the airport and adjust my backpack on my shoulders and reach into my pocket to make sure I have my subway card at the ready. At the baggage claim area, there's a boy standing in his winter coat, a beanie, and a piece of paper with my name on it. When he looks up and I make contact with the bright blue eyes I've been waiting to see in person for a month, my heart skips a beat.

I never thought I'd be the girl who runs through the airport, you know the girls you see in those cheesy rom-coms that Madge likes so much, but suddenly I am.

Before I know it, I've got my arms wrapped around Peeta's neck, my legs around his waist as he hoists me up, and my lips mesh with his. My heart feels whole for the first time in a month.

I am so screwed.

…

My parents insisted on knowing everything about Peeta. Mom wanted to know more about what he looked like, what his hobbies were, how we met, and Dad was more concerned about two things: how he treated me and what his future plans were – as if being in a relationship for a month was determining that we were planning on marrying in the near future. The whole college dating scene, much less the hook up culture, is something that goes over their heads completely. They met their senior year of high school, got engaged at graduation, and had me a year later. Love at first sight, they always said.

When I mentioned that Peeta was the head of a service organization on campus, both my parents were overjoyed. My father was less thrilled when I mentioned that Peeta was applying for a few positions in post-graduate volunteerism and his top-choice program is a two-year commitment teaching English in Ecuador. To be honest, it's something I've pushed to the back of my mind because I don't really want to think about that.

And that's fairly easy to do when we're back on campus without my parents breathing down my neck. There are other pressures now that we're back on campus.

Johanna, Madge, and Annie have all given me their advice on relationships. Annie gives me ideas for dates. Johanna and Madge drag me to Planned Parenthood, claiming that even if we're not having sex now it's better to be on the pill and not have to worry. Considering my parents would have a stroke if they thought I was even entertaining the idea of having sex right now, I'm glad I have them to help me do this. It hadn't even crossed my mind.

My three roommates benefit from my relationship with Peeta. They get invited to all of their parties now. I'm not a big partier. Peeta knows this and doesn't push me to come, but I want to go just to see him. By the end of January, the beginning of February, I've been to all of their parties and for the most part Peeta and I stay for about an hour before either going up to his room to make out if we're drunk or going back to my room to talk and watch a movie if we're both relatively sober.

"I've got watermelon and blue raspberry, come and get it!" Johanna shouts once the door to the dorm shuts. Johanna turned twenty-one over break we don't need to use her brother's friend Blight as our supplier anymore.

We buy the cheapest stuff we can get our hands on. It's hot going down and burns all the way to my stomach. But if I'm going to handle being in that overcrowded Townie tonight, I can't go sober.

Finnick answers the door when we get there, not looking the least bit happy about being the sober contact. He waves us in. Madge and Jo practically skip over to the beer pong table while Annie hangs back to talk to Finnick. I set out on a mission to find my boyfriend. He's standing near the patio door with Thresh holding a watering can, no doubt full of some mixture of alcohol, and his own beer.

Once Peeta sees me, he pulls me to him. Thresh grabs the watering can so he doesn't spill it all over the place. I'm tipsy, but Peeta's clearly hammered.

"Finnick may or may not have had him drinking doubles for him," Thresh tells me after Peeta lets me out of his death grip. "Keep an eye on him."

Luckily, I've captured Peeta's attention and Thresh can sneak away with both the watering can and Peeta's beer.

Peeta pulls me back to him and we sway a little. "Katniss, I'm so glad you're here," he slurs. "I missed you _sooo_ much today."

"Did you?" I ask. He literally saw me at dinner four hours ago, but he nods and gives me a big smacking kiss on the side of the head.

"Uh huh!" He's got that lopsided grin on his face. I think of it as his blissfully happy face. "I didn't know if you were gonna come because you hate this kind of thing, but you did come and I'm so happy to see you."

I roll my eyes but I can't help but laugh. It might be the alcohol coursing through my veins, but there's something cute about Peeta when he's drunk. He sounds like a little boy, when in real life he's the most charming and poised guy in this dorm.

He tugs on my hand and starts walking toward the stairs. "C'mere. Let's go quieter."

I follow him. Finnick and Annie are guarding the stairs. Peeta told me once that you can't leave the stairs unoccupied unless you want random people going to the second floor. Peeta stumbles to the steps and Finnick laughs.

"Dude," he says. "Don't get excited, you're going to have the biggest case of whiskey dick–"

"We're going to quiet so we can talk," Peeta explains. He sounds like he's trying to explain it to a five year old, but he can't be taken seriously with the slur he's got going on.

"Go ahead," Finnick says, standing to let us through. "Have fun, lovebirds."

Peeta leaps up onto the bed and brings me to him so I'm lying on his chest. I can feel myself rising and fall in time with his chest as he breathes. "I really am glad you're here," he says sweetly.

"Me too," I tell him.

When we kiss I feel a buzz completely different from an alcohol-induced one. This one starts in my stomach and floods my entire body, from my fingers to my toes. It's a deep-seated hunger that I just can't satisfy. Then, when my pelvis bumps with his, I choke in his mouth as a shock fills my body.

Peeta looks up at me, his eyes connected with mine the entire time that his hand leaves my cheek and trails down my body. It's like he's watching me, asking some sort of permission. I don't understand why. He fingers the hem of my shirt before lifting it off me, running his lips over my skin. We've done this before. We've done more, but we still haven't gone all the way. His hands begin to roam my body, fiddling with the button on my jeans until it's unclasped.

We are headed for disaster. I'm just drunk enough that if Peeta makes me feel good I'm not going to be able to think straight. And I know Peeta wouldn't want our first time together to be while we're drunk. To be honest, with the stories Jo and them have told me, that might be the best way to go, but I can't do that to Peeta. He's too much of a gentleman. As much as I don't want to stop this now, I'm the only one sober enough to do it.

"Wait," I gasp. "We don't want to do this while we're both drunk."

He pulls back immediately, or as quickly as he can. "You're right," he says. His jaw tenses. I hope I didn't hurt his feelings. The buzz is still flowing through my body, cursing me for stopping.

"The swim meet is in Denver next week," Peeta murmurs. "Finnick will be gone all weekend."

We just end up kissing and talking until he gets to tired, the alcohol making its way through his system. I curl up into his side and wonder if he'll remember any of this in the morning. I kind of hope he does – or at least the last part.

…

Peeta sleeps until three in the afternoon and by that point I'm already at the library and he's too hungover to go farther than the common room in his Townie. Finnick even walks to the dining hall to get him food.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:14pm]: I'm sorry about last night. I was a real douche wasn't I?_

I can almost hear his sheepishness.

_No you were just drunk. Do you remember anything? [Delivered 3:14pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:17pm]: Unfortunately I think I remember everything…I sang Zedd to you right?_

_Are you gonna stay the night? Lol yes you did [Delivered at 3:17pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:17pm]: oh dear god_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:18pm]: How do you put up with me?_

_Doesn't mean we're bound for life ;) [Delivered at 3:18pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:18pm]: Obviously. You didn't stay_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:19pm]: Just kidding_

I take a breath and bite my lip, looking around the library before pressing my thumbs against my screen. I almost feel wrong typing it in the library. I type it and erase it, trying to find the perfect wording, at least four times. It still comes out like crap.

_So about what you said…about Finnick not being there next weekend…I'm game if you are [Delivered at 3:21pm]_

There's no response for a few seconds and my heart literally stops. Is that the one thing he didn't remember? Did he not actually want that? I feel like an idiot before I see the bubble pop up next to his name, indicating that he's typing.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:23pm]: If you're sure_

_I am [Delivered at 3:23pm]_

And there we go. I've said it.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 3:24pm]: Then I'm game too_

…

I'm a bundle of nerves on Friday night.

Peeta's roommates are going to the bars, so their entire Townie will be empty until around two in the morning. I bring a small bag of stuff with me – clothes, my toothbrush and things I need to get ready in the morning. I almost wish I had let Peeta do what he was going to do last weekend. That way it would have been done and over with. But Peeta would have been upset about it and I know that's the reason why I stopped it.

I go over around ten-thirty and he answers the door with his air of confidence that he always has. His smile, which wavers just slightly, is the only thing that shows he's at least a little bit nervous too.

"Hey, come on in," he says, taking my bag and swinging it over his shoulder. We walk up the stairs and he shuts the door, locking it behind him.

I don't really know what I'm supposed to do here. The only thing I have to go on is the movies. I feel like jumping him suddenly isn't the right thing to do. But Peeta is suave and charming and has done this before and knows that I haven't so he takes the lead.

He takes my hand and smiles. "Relax. You look like I'm going to murder you."

"I'm just nervous."

"That's okay," he says, backing up toward the bed and pulling me with him. He moves his hands to my waist and lifts me up on his raised bed, coming to stand between my legs. I feel the hunger start in my belly. "Just relax. We can stop any time."

I nod. And then he kisses me.

It's sweet and gentle at first but then the hunger that's been steadily building in my stomach is taking over my mind. I want him closer. I want his lips on my chin, on my neck, anywhere on my skin. And I want him in this bed. Now.

He loses his shirt before he climbs in with me, hovering over me and sucking on my neck. It feels so incredibly good. My shirt joins his on the ground and Peeta looks down at me with his own hunger apparent in his eyes. I feel a little self-conscious as Peeta stares but then his lips are on my skin again and it feels too good for the tension to remain. He kisses all the way down my body and to my jeans, fingering the button and looking at me for permission. I nod my head.

When we're both in just our underwear, the dread begins to pool, mixing with the desire. My body wants him. I can feel myself aching for him. But I know that it probably won't be this earth-shattering moment. Johanna told me to set my expectations low.

Peeta looks at me and I nod my head, afraid of what will come out of my mouth if I open it.

He drags his fingers over the center of my underwear and I feel myself suck in a deep breath. My entire body shivers. He presses down on a particularly sensitive spot and I bite my tongue, wincing at the pain in my mouth and then quickly trying to cover it up so he doesn't think he's doing anything wrong because he isn't.

I lift my hips, hoping he'll take the wordless instructions and he does, pulling my underwear off completely and dropping it to the floor with the rest of my clothes.

Peeta, who has a skill with words that I do not, hasn't said a word since we started. We make eye contact and he smiles. "You are absolutely beautiful."

I feel absolutely ridiculous laying here in only my bra. I open my mouth to tell him that, but a moan comes out instead when brushes his fingers against me the way he had when I still had underwear on. The hunger in my belly is overcome with pleasure now and I feel myself wanting more as Peeta moves his fingers in a pattern I can't even follow. Then he sticks one of his fingers inside me and my legs fall open instinctively to make the intrusion a little less uncomfortable. But as he pumps his finger into me and rubs that sensitive spot he found earlier, I start to breathe heavy and my fingers claw at his sheets.

And then my entire body turns to jelly.

"Okay?" he asks.

I can't formulate words, even if I wanted to. All I can do is nod my head. My eyes flutter to Peeta's lower half. "Do you…?"

He shrugs. "Depends. If you want to keep going, we'll hold off on that."

I take a deep breath and reach behind me to unclasp my bra. I'm not one for words, especially now, so that's my answer. I hope he understands.

He does.

Johanna's right. It's not really all that pleasurable. In fact, I'd like to block it out of my mind, except for the image of Peeta's face, contorted with pleasure, as he moves inside me. And the after. Peeta washes me in the shower and then we cuddle in his bed and he tells me over and over again how perfect I am and how much he appreciates me. They're the kindest words that anyone, besides my own family, has ever said to me.

As he drifts off, he mumbles that he loves me and the fact that it makes my body warm instead of run completely cold tells me that I'm in way too far to ever jump back out.

…

I've never really been a big fan of Valentine's Day, mostly because I saw it as a consumer holiday. In elementary school, the kids used to use it as a way to tease people – the boys would make cards proclaiming love and crushes and the girls would fall for it.

But when Peeta shows up at my door with a pretty necklace with a single pearl and a plate of cookies, I can't help but smile.

That night, with Peeta's arm wrapped around my waist and my head resting on his other as we drift off to sleep, I let myself imagine a life where Peeta and I are both graduated. He walks through the door with a stack of papers to grade and a little boy with his curls and my eyes comes running to tackle him.

The last thought I remember before falling asleep is that I'm a goner.

…

I'm with Peeta when his phone rings. We're in his Townie with his roommates and mine while we wait for Finnick and Annie to get back from practice so we can go to dinner before the hockey game against our crosstown rivals. It's a little late, but I suppose it's only three in the afternoon in California, which is the headquarters for Heridas Santas, the volunteer program Peeta applied to in late December and phone interviewed with in early February.

He steps out of the room and up the stairs. I can hear him answer before he shuts the door.

None of us can continue our conversations while we wait, and I just keep looking up the stairs, hoping he'll come out soon. It's only a few minutes until my heart starts to pound. I don't know if I should go up there and check on him. But then the door to his and Finnick's room opens and he steps out, walking so steadily and quietly down the stairs that my heart breaks for him. He didn't get in.

He stands at the bottom of the steps, his face etched with shock.

Cato is the one who clears his throat. "Well?"

Peeta looks up and just shakes his head. "I have until April first to give them my answer."

"You're in?" Marvel clarifies.

His face breaks into a smile and he nods his head, still clearly in shock.

All the boys jump up to give him a hug and with the four of his roommates lunging on him he falls to the ground. There's a pile of boys on the floor, cheering and laughing and Woof jumps up to grab a bottle of their fancy liquor they have stored for special occasions. He's just cracking open the bottle when Finnick and Annie walk in.

"What the hell is going on here?" Finnick demands.

"Peeta got into Heridas!" Marvel shouts. It takes five seconds for Finnick to jump into the pile.

I don't even realize the lump that has formed in my throat until Madge takes the seat Peeta once occupied and puts a hand on my shoulder. The boys get off Peeta when Woof puts the drinks on the table, using all of their glassware to serve us all. Peeta makes it a point to meet my eyes when he stands up.

"We need to talk," he mouths.

I nod once and then Peeta is yanked toward the table. I close my eyes and try to swallow the lump in my throat before I do something stupid like cry.

…

_Peeta Mellark [Sent at 8:57am]: Are you free sometime today?_

I stare at my phone for ten minutes before setting it back down on the table. He sent it over an hour ago, but I still haven't been able to respond. What's there to talk about? Peeta is going to Ecuador for two years and that's not exactly conducive for a relationship. I have a test on Monday, granted it's for my sociology class and I'm not too concerned about it, but I'd rather not get dumped before it.

There's a knock at my door and I frown. Madge, Johanna, and Annie are still sleeping. They partied hard last night with Peeta's roommates at the skeezy dive bar near campus they went to with them. Thresh offered to get me Clove's old ID so I could go with them, since I'm the only one whose not twenty-one and doesn't have a fake, but I said I had a headache and told them I was just going to go to bed. Peeta tried to follow me, but as the boy they were all celebrating he couldn't exactly get out of it. Madge also tried to stay behind but I told her to go enjoy herself. I wanted to be alone.

I stand up and walk to the door, betting it's Johanna's lab partner. They have a lab report due tomorrow and were supposed to work on it today.

Peeta jerks his head when I open the door. "Get your coat. We're going for a walk."

It's relatively warm for mid-March and almost all the snow is gone. We don't say anything until we're halfway around the pond that's on the far edge of our campus. Then Peeta stops and faces me.

"I'm calling them today." He says. This is it. "And I'm declining the position."

And I can't do long distan-_wait_.

"What?" I exclaim.

"I can't do it," he says, pulling his hands out of his pockets and clenching them into fists. "Not anymore."

I shake my head. "Peeta, you've wanted to do this for over a year. You're in love with this program."

He nods and looks out over the lake. "I'm in love with you more."

We haven't said those words before, except for that time Peeta unconsciously muttered them in his sleep. I think we've both been holding back, knowing this would happen even if we didn't want to admit it.

He grabs at his hair. "I can't do it, Katniss!" He shakes his head and I can hear the lump in his throat as he talks. "I stayed up all night trying to convince myself that this is still what I want. I didn't sleep because I was been thinking about what will happen if I leave the country for two years. I have to see where we can go. I can't leave you."

My cheeks feel wet. "Peeta." My voice cracks. "You can't. This is your life."

"You're my life now."

"I want you to stay so bad," I tell him. He opens his mouth, but I push up on my toes and kiss his words away. "But, Peeta, you have to think practically. What if we don't work out and you don't do this and end up regretting it?"

I wouldn't be able to live with myself if that happened. I'd feel guilty for the rest of my life.

"I won't."

He always sounds so sure. I nod and Peeta takes me in his arms, sensing that I haven't agreed yet. "Please, just…don't make any decisions until April first," I say into his neck. "Think about it, okay? For me?"

I can feel him nodding, but I can also feel his heart pounding in his chest as well as my own, the one that's asking me how I can betray it so much. Here Peeta is telling me that he would give up everything he ever wanted just to be with me. How can I even think about telling him to leave when I know my heart is breaking just thinking about the moment I have to let go?

…

"He's seriously thinking about declining?" Johanna sighs and shakes her head. "I mean, I knew you guys were getting serious, but…that's huge."

"Do you want him to go?" Annie asks.

I sigh and let my head fall backwards onto the couch. Madge takes my hand. "No, of course not," I say. My eyes are watering again. I feel like I haven't done anything but cry since I came back from the walk with Peeta. "But he's wanted this forever and I just…don't want him to regret not going."

"How many times does he get to come home?" Madge asks.

"He doesn't." The words catch in my throat.

No one says anything after that.

The four of us sit in silence and my mind keeps spinning. He's ready and willing to give up his entire life plan for me and we've been dating for three months. It's too much. Peeta is giving up too much for something that is so new. He says he can find a job after graduation. He'll live close enough to campus that he can come visit me. I want that. I want that more than I can even fathom right now, but I know I can't have it. Not when Peeta has been so excited for this program for longer than he's known me.

…

On March thirty-first, we're lying on his bed. Since Peeta told me that he would give up his position, we've been pretending that April first isn't coming although we both know it is. I know that Peeta's talked to a lot of people on campus besides me. He's talked to his references for the application, the campus minister who mentors the volunteer program he heads, anyone who will listen to him and guide him.

And I knew, when I knocked on the door and he answered it in tears, that he came to the same realization as I did.

"What day do you leave?"

He closes his eyes. "August first."

How is it that something so wonderful has to hurt so badly?

"What do we do now?" Peeta asks. He looks at me with his bloodshot eyes. "Do we just stop? I don't know if I can do that."

"Me neither." This is going to make it hurt a whole lot more in the end, but I have to suggest it. I'm not sure I'll make it through the rest of the semester if I don't. "How about we use these last six weeks before I leave to say goodbye?"

He covers his eyes with the crook of his elbow. "I don't want to say goodbye."

I roll over and press my lips to his, not wanting any more words to come out of his mouth.

…

My last final is on the day after my birthday and Peeta graduates on the nineteenth. Since everyone but the seniors have to move out of the dorms immediately after finals, Madge invites me, Jo, and Annie to spend the next ten days at her house and we'll go to the graduation together. That night I'll be on a flight home.

Peeta looks so handsome in his cap and gown, but I have never seen a faker smile on anyone's face. His parents load up the car with all his stuff and get ready to go home, but Peeta insists on going with me to the airport. He uses his brother's car to drive and holds my hand the entire way to security.

When we get there he holds me so tightly against his chest I think he might be trying to morph our bodies into one.

"It's only two years," he whispers against my hair. "If it's meant to be we'll find each other again."

I reach around him and almost claw at his back. I try to bury my head into his chest. I really don't want to let go. At this moment, I would do anything just to have him stay. It's because I'm selfish. He's going to have the time of his life. But how am I going to survive without him?

Peeta is the one to pull back and gently push me toward the line for the security check. "I love you, Katniss," he says.

I take the few steps back toward him and kiss him one last time. I never told him those words and now my throat is so full of tears that I can't. I can only hope he understands.

Peeta stands in the same place as I walk through the line and get checked, watching me until I'm out of sight. It's only once I round the corner, sure that he can no longer see me, that I collapse on the floor, tears streaming down my face and ugly sobs caught in my throat, my fingers grasping at the pearl necklace because it seems like the only thing I have left. I don't ever want to fall in love again if it hurts this much to lose it.

…

The next time I see Peeta Mellark is at a New Years party, five years later.

* * *

I posted this over on Tumblr as a sort of follower appreciation. I decided to do a follow-up to this to give Everlark a HEA. I've roughly outlined four mid-sized chapters that will take place five years after Peeta graduates to chronicle them coming together again. My plan is to start posting to this after I update _Girls in White Dresses_.

Title taken from _Say Something _performed by A Great Big World

Heridas Santas is a fictious volunteer organization that I based off of a few organizations that I'm familiar with. Heridas Santas translates to "Holy Wounds" in English (according to Google Translate/if anyone speaks Spanish and this is horribly wrong, please let me know), which is an illusion to the five wounds of Christ during the Crucifixion. There are a few references through the story that indicate that Katniss and Peeta attend a Catholic university, and thus the program Peeta chooses is Catholic as well, hence the name.

You can find me on Tumblr at dracoisalooker76


	2. Chapter 1

_Many thanks to Swishywillow for prereading this beast and giving me the courage to post it. I hope you all enjoy it._

* * *

**01: In This World Full of People (there's one killing me)**

I splash water onto my face in the bathroom on the flights side of security and look into the mirror. I'm a complete and utter mess. With my bloodshot eyes and snotty nose, I look like I've either been crying the whole flight or I'm high with a cold. Of course, the first is correct. Since Peeta left my line of vision, I haven't stopped crying. I even called Madge while I was sitting in the corner of the airport trying not to draw too much attention to myself so she could talk me down. It worked for a bit, but the minute I looked out my window and saw the city disappearing as we ascended, the tears started again. Luckily, the kind woman sitting beside me didn't seem to care. She actually ordered my complimentary soda and snack for me when I couldn't. Cecelia, with her three kids, had seen her fair share of broken hearts and she told me that everything happens for a reason after she somehow prodded all the details out of me. I'm not usually one for talking to strangers, but my words began flowing as soon as she asked.

We split ways at Dulles, where we both had different connecting flights, but it made the first leg of my trip a little easier.

I dip some paper towels in the cool water flowing from the tap and press it to my eyes, trying to reduce some of the puffiness before I go out to meet my family. It doesn't work too well. There's no hiding the heartbreak on my face. It's as plain as day.

Prim is idling in our dad's truck in the drop-off lane. I chuck my suitcase and backpack into the bed of the truck before jumping into the passenger's seat. Prim doesn't waste any time before reaching over the bench to grab me. That's when the tears start again. At this point, I'm surprised I have any left.

Last night, Prim was the one I called when my roommates were all asleep and I was panicking about what the next day would bring. She answered on the first ring, even though it was late on a school night, as if she knew it was coming. I sat on the Undersees' patio as I talked to Prim into the early hours of the morning. I bet that's why it's Prim picking me up. She knew I wouldn't want to be around my parents right now.

"I'm okay," I tell her, pushing away. "Let's go."

She eyes me and then nods, pulling away from the curb. I lean my head on the window and pull out my phone. My lock screen is still a picture of Peeta and me. I should change that, but even as I go through my photos to try and find a good one I can't bring myself to actually switch it. To avoid it, I answer Madge's text, asking me to text her back when I landed, and when I send it I look through my messages. Peeta's conversation is fourth on the screen. I click on it, because clearly I just want to make myself hurt.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent May 19, 2014, 1:54pm]: Okay i think I see you. Johanna's in a purple dress standing on the picnic table right?_

I know it's a bad idea, but I do it anyway. I click the little iMessage bubble and pull up the keyboard.

_Are you home yet? [Delivered May 19, 2014, 8:43pm]_

I don't want to say that I hold the phone in my hand, staring down at the screen and my little blue bubble that doesn't have a response, but that'd be a lie because that's exactly what I do. I hold the phone in my hands, using my thumb to keep the screen from going black, for the remainder of the song playing on the radio.

My breath catches when I see the little bubble pop up, indicating that he's typing.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 8:47pm]: Not yet. About an hour more. You?_

_Prim and I are driving back now [Delivered 8:47pm]_

The little bubble doesn't pop up again and, after a minute of deliberation, my fingers desperately move of their own accord.

_I miss you already [Delivered 8:49pm]_

This time, he does type back.

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 8:50pm]: I miss you too_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 8:50pm]: But are you sure this is a good idea?_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 8:51pm]: I just don't want you to end up hurt in the end_

I know what he's getting at. Peeta and I decided to do a clean break. Once he dropped me off at the airport that was supposed to be it. Peeta thought it would help me to spend the summer trying to reconcile with the fact that starting in August his forms of communication would be limited. Per the recommendations of the program, and in order to live in solidarity with the students they were teaching, the volunteers at Heridas Santas were encouraged to leave their computers and personal electronics behind. There would be one communal computer at the house for them to blog and do online journals or whatnot so their families could hear about their travels. They would get cellphones in Ecuador, but that meant any phone calls to the United States would be long distance international calls.

But the idea of not texting Peeta until he left sounded easy until I actually had to act on it.

_I'm already hurting. I'll be fine [Delivered 8:51pm]_

_Just stay with me okay? [Delivered 8:51pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 8:52pm]: Okay._

...

We decide that there won't be much harm in texting each other when we feel the need. I mean, we won't need to be in constant contact. Just big things that we want to tell each other. Or when we're bored. Or when Peeta and his mom get into a fight or when Prim's stupid cat disappears for a day and I can't handle her sobbing without feeling bad about not caring if the cat comes back or not. Or when Prim's stupid cat comes back and I lock it outside in hopes that it will run away again, an action that Prim doesn't take kindly to and we stop speaking for a while.

So, really, we don't talk too much. It isn't like before when we were always with each other or talking in some way. We're gradually breaking up, I guess. We decided on no Skype, and no actual calls unless it's really important. Just texting.

"Who are you texting?"

I look up and see Prim staring at me from the couch. We're all watching a movie and Prim's one of those types of movie watchers that gets frustrated when people start to multitask. When we were little, she wouldn't even let my dad read the newspaper while we watched some Disney cartoon for the fifth time in a row.

"Peeta," I mutter.

She frowns and, even in the darkness Prim insists we watch movies in, I don't miss the look my parents share.

"I thought you broke up," Prim says.

"Yeah, but we're still friends."

Prim shakes her head and turns back toward the television. "Whatever."

I turn back to my phone and ignore her. What does she know? Break ups in high school, at least from what I remember seeing, were always huge deals. Ours isn't. We're just taking a break while Peeta's out of the country. He said so himself at the airport – if it's meant to be, it'll happen when he gets back.

...

_Peeta Mellark [Sent June 1, 2014, 2:14am]: Housing assignments went live at midnight and I spent the last two hours stalking them. Help I think I'm crazy %D_

_Is that supposed to be a crazy face? [Delivered 10:13am]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 11:30am]: I guess. I think I was a little delirious by that point._

_So... [Delivered 11:31am]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 11:31am]: ?_

_Tell me about your housemates dummy [Delivered 11:31am]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 11:32am]: Oh haha_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 11:32am]: Still sleeping apparently lol_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 11:33am]: But they seem cool from their facebooks at least. One other guy, 3 girls, 5 in all so not too bad. They seem normal enough which is good. One of them is overly friendly. She already messaged everyone and wants to group video call!_

_Sounds awkward [Delivered 11:33am]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 11:34am]: Yeah, that's what I thought. At least when we meet at orientation there will be icebreakers to stop the awkwardness_

_You'll be fine :) [Delivered 11:34am]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 11:34am]: I hope so. God what if they all hate me?_

_Then they must be insane. They wont hate you [Delivered 11:35am]_

_I think it's impossible to hate you [Delivered 11:35am]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 11:36am]: I gotta go get ready. I'm working the register today. I'll text you later though_

...

_Madge Undersee [June 3, 2014, 4:26pm]: Hey! I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing. We haven't talked in a while and I know you probably just want to disappear, but if you want to talk about it just give me a call okay? Love you_

I tap the iMessage bubble and then swipe the keyboard away maybe five times as I try to figure out what to say.

_I'm doing okay [Delivered 5:14pm]_

Her response bubble pops up almost instantly.

_Madge Undersee [Sent 5:15pm]: Breaking up with someone sucks. I know that, trust me, but it'll get easier. And it's already been like 2 weeks since you've talked to him and that's the hardest part._

I grind my teeth. She's not going to like this.

_I talked to him this morning [Delivered 5:15pm]_

I barely tap out of messages before my screen dissolves into the incoming call screen.

_Madge Undersee  
__mobile_

I slide the little bar on the screen to answer and put the phone to my ear. "Hey."

"You talked to Peeta?"

"Yeah."

She lets out a breath. "Is this the first time you talked to him since graduation?" My non-answer is enough for her. She groans. "Katniss! I thought you guys decided not to talk to each other. Who initiated it?"

I think back to that day in the truck on the way back from the airport. "Uh, I did."

"When did this start?"

"After I landed at the airport."

She sighs on the other end of the line. "I get that it's really hard to let go, especially since you both still clearly have feelings for each other, but," she stops, "Kat, I don't know if you understand how much this is going to hurt in August. This is a quick fix–"

"It already hurts," I interrupt. "Madge, I already know that it's going to suck when he leaves, so why does it have to suck now too. We're just texting each other. That's it. I haven't Skyped or even called him since he dropped me off at the airport."

"Okay," she says. "I guess that isn't so bad. As long as you know this is all going to stop in August whether you want it to or not."

I nod my head and then realize she can't see me. "I know, but I think that will actually help. It'll be easier when I literally can't text him than it would be knowing he still has his phone now and I can't just because everyone's trying to protect me. It's going to hurt one way or the other – why not in August instead of June?"

"Yeah, okay. That makes sense, I guess. Just, if you need anything, please call me. I'll literally fly down there if you need me to."

I chuckle, knowing that she's being a hundred percent serious. Madge's family would think nothing of her asking for a plane ticket to visit me.

"I don't think that will be necessary, but thank you."

"I love you, okay? Keep me updated."

"Will do. Bye, Madge."

...

In high school, I never really had all that many good friends. I got along with a decent amount of people, but after the moms stopped organizing sleepovers midway through elementary school, I was never really the one invited. My mom seemed to sense this and after the first few times of her asking if I wanted to invite anyone over for a sleepover and me answering with a no, she made it her own personal goal to ensure that I had not only a good childhood but a way out of the town that had never really accepted me.

While Prim trotted off to sleepovers and the dance class at the community center, my mom and I would have our own book club or practice memorizing geography or spelling. She had never taken the SAT herself, but she took a class at the high school that her friend was teaching so that she could help me when I started to outlearn her. School had suddenly become the one constant thing in my life and even though my school district wasn't top tier, or anywhere close really, when paired with the extra work my mom put in it would be enough to at least get me into a school none of my classmates would ever dream of attending. When I aced my SAT with a nearly perfect score, my parents took a lot of pride in that – just as much as they did when Prim made the cheerleading squad or was voted to be a princess in the homecoming parade.

Panem City University was originally a reach school for me when I was applying. I didn't actually think I'd get in and, if I did, I knew I'd never be able to afford it. I figured that, if I got in, that would be enough. I'd let my parents keep the admittance letter and I'd accept wherever I received the most scholarship money. But then I did get in and I got a good amount of financial aid. I'd still have to take out loans, but my parents really wanted me to go.

When the letter comes that says I've been invited to apply to be a scholar of the college, my parents are unbelievably happy and incredibly proud.

So is Peeta.

_Peeta Mellark [July 14, 2014, 3:13pm]: That's amazing, smarty pants! What do you have to do?_

_Basically if I get it then it just extends the length of my thesis [Delivered 3:13pm]_

_And I get a special cord at graduation [Delivered 3:13pm]_

_So it's not actually that impressive [Delivered 3:14pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 3:14pm]: You're such a bad liar_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 3:14pm]: That's a huge honor! Even I know that and my roommates were bozos ;)_

_You're so mean [Delivered 3:15pm]_

_Thresh wrote a thesis didn't he? [Delivered 3:15pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 3:16pm]: Okay yeah but it was just departmental. Scholar of the college, Kat? That's a big deal!_

_I just won't have a life next year [Delivered 3:16pm]_

_Peeta Mellark [Sent 3:17pm]: You're gonna kill it :)_

I smile and send him a heart back.

...

August first comes much quicker than I thought it would.

Peeta and I text well passed midnight. Everything is quiet and the only thing I hear is the soft taps of my thumbs flying across the keyboard on my screen. We're not really making a whole lot of sense in our conversations. It's mostly gibberish about how much we're going to miss each other. It's nearly three when my delusional body decides it's a good idea to get out of bed with my phone and go sit on the porch. I don't even wait for Peeta to reply to the last message I sent before I go into my contacts and press his number, watching as my phone screen dissolves into the outgoing call.

_Peeta Mellark  
__calling mobile..._

I try to keep my breaths even as I listen to the rings. I pray that he picks up and doesn't just ignore the call. I'm almost afraid that he's going to do just that when the familiar click of connection stops the constant rings and I hear him shuffling.

"Hold on," he whispers. "I'm upstairs and my parents are sleeping."

As I wait for him to come back, I hear him as he walks through his house, down the stairs, and through what sounds like a few sets of doors. Finally, there's another bit of shuffling and then he speaks.

"Sorry, my mom's a light sleeper, so I had to go outside," he says. "But what's up?"

"I just wanted to hear your voice one more time."

It sounds pathetic but I can't help but realize how true a statement it is.

"Where are you?" he asks.

"I'm on my porch."

"Can you see stars?"

"Yeah."

"We're looking at the same sky, just at different angles."

I feel my eyes well with tears. "You have been watching too many chick flicks," I say, but it doesn't come out as stern and sarcastic as I wanted it to. Instead, I can hear my own voice break and the waver in my words is so pronounced I'm sure he catches it.

"Katniss, listen to me," he says, surprising me by sounding extraordinarily calm. "You are going to have so much fun this year. It's gonna be a lot of work, but it's gonna rock, okay? Trust me. Senior year is the best one. You have all these events and parties and you'll have a bucket list – Annie seems like the kind of girl who would insist on one. So you're gonna go do all these cool things because its your last chance to – like, go to the clock tower at the top of Paylor Hall. Do that! That's awesome, the sunrise is gorgeous from the top of Paylor."

"Yeah?"

I can almost hear the smile in his voice. "Oh, yeah. Beautiful. Even Cato thought so. We went during Senior Week and Marvel cried – don't tell him I told you."

I chuckle.

"And besides, Miss Smarty Pants, you're going to be working on that stellar thesis and being a scholar of the college. You won't even have time for anything else. Even if I was still there, you would have so much other stuff to do that I'd be, like, fourth or fifth on your list."

A single tear slides out of the corner of my eye and down my cheek. "Not quite."

"I love you so much, okay? But I want you to take advantage of everything. If we're meant to be, we'll find each other when I'm home again."

I don't understand how he can be so smooth talking to me right now. I'm sitting here with tears in my eyes and he sounds like he's having a conversation about some mundane thing. So I ask him.

"How are you so calm?"

"You can't see me. I'm shaking." I hear him swallow. "I have a lot of faith, Kat. I don't think that God would be cruel enough to give me this connection to you and then take you away so I never see you again. I really don't, so that's why I'm okay. I've been praying every day about it and I'm going to keep praying until we're reunited."

"What if you meet someone else?"

"She won't hold a candle to you."

We talk for an hour, and then my phone starts to get really hot on my ear and Peeta starts to yawn. He has to be at the airport, boarding a flight to Miami for his orientation, in less than four hours, and I feel bad about keeping him up but selfishly glad I got to have this time with him.

"When you come home, we're gonna find each other," I tell him.

"I have no doubts about it." He yawns again. "Go get some sleep okay?"

"Okay."

"Bye, Katniss."

It always used to be _talk to you later_ or _see you soon_. There was never any sort of finality to the ends of our conversations like there are now.

"Bye, Peeta."

I keep the phone to my ear even after Peeta hangs up. It's a good half an hour before I move it, my arm too tired to keep it up. I fall backwards so I'm lying on the porch's wooden slats, my eyes so blurred by tears that when I look at the sky it just looks like swirls of white and black. I don't know how long I stay out here for, but it's long enough for my dad to wake up and get ready for his Friday morning shift in the mines. He opens the door and immediately grabs me in his arms, carrying me like a baby up the stairs as I cry into his shoulder. He goes into my bedroom and sets me down on the bed, where I notice my mother already is. They switch places and my mom immediately wraps her arms around me, rocking me back and forth and running her fingers through my hair. The walls are thin in our house, so eventually my sobbing wakes Prim and she jumps into bed with us just as my father has to leave so he isn't late. She curls into the side my mother isn't on and we all hold each other until I cry myself to asleep.

...

It goes straight to voicemail.

"Hey, you've reached Peeta Mellark. I can't make it to my phone right now but if you leave a message I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks!"

I hang up and redial.

"Hey, you've reached Peeta Mellark. I can't make it to my phone right now but if you leave a message I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks!"

It's not that I expected him to pick up. I knew that he was going to turn his phone off and leave it at home before his parents drove him to the airport. It was some sort of serendipity that his contract was up at the end of August so his parents didn't have to terminate it early due to the fact that he wouldn't use it again for two years. Until his parents end the contract, the phone will be off, on his dresser, and have every call going straight to his voicemail.

I sniff and press redial.

Sometimes, as the days go on, I just need to hear his voice. There are moments when I wake up out of a dead sleep, sit right up in bed, and can't remember what he sounds like. That's when I reach over to my bedside table and grab my phone, pressing Peeta's name in my recent calls and waiting as my phone dials the number. As always it goes straight to voicemail.

Until one day it doesn't.

"We're sorry; you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again."

The automated voice on the other end of the line brings tears to my eyes and I end the call, dropping the phone on the couch and putting my face in my hands. He's really gone.

...

When I get back to school, the only thing that I am really grateful for is the fact that I don't live in a Townie. Living in one of those would have reminded me too much of Peeta. At least living in a four-man suite, in a different dorm, I'm not constantly surrounded by reminders of Peeta and where we met – because everywhere else on campus seems to be a trigger.

For example, my favorite study spot in the bottom of the library is ruined. I try going there one of the first nights to start working on my thesis and I just can't. The seat opposite me is empty for the first time in six months, and while my pre-Peeta self would have greatly enjoyed that, now it just makes me upset and unable to work.

Madge, Annie, and Johanna try to get me to go out the first weekend, but I can't. They stay in with me that Friday night, and Jo even runs to the small convenience store across the street to get us each a pint of Ben and Jerry's – the only two guys that we need, she says. But when I don't want to go to the football game the next day, they draw the line.

"Nope, absolutely not," Johanna says, yanking my arms and literally pulling me out of bed. "We would be bad friends if we let you mope. Time to get up. We're going to the game and we're going to the boys' tailgate, let's go."

"I really don't want to," I whine.

Madge is sitting on her bed, already dressed. Annie is in the doorway, her arms crossed. "Jo, if she doesn't want to go to the tailgate, you and Madge go ahead and we'll meet you at the game."

It at least gets Johanna to stop messing with me. She and Madge head out to tailgate in the Townies and I feel a little bad that Annie is staying behind with me, but I couldn't go and I think Annie knows that.

"Thanks," I mutter as I slip into my shirt.

She shakes her head. "It's fine, Katniss, really." She walks into the room and leaps onto Madge's bed as I finish getting ready. "Johanna meant well. We just don't like seeing you like this. It hurts us to see you hurt."

I let out a breath and lean over the bed, pressing my face into the comforter. At home, I had been doing pretty well that last week before break ended. Sure, I spent the couple before lying on the couch with Prim watching television. But it was an improvement from the first couple days. I barely moved from the couch and my mother even went to the store to buy an entire carton of ice cream for me and we almost never have ice cream in the house. But by the time I was boarding a plane to go back to school, I thought I was feeling much better and that I could handle anything.

Wrong.

I finish getting ready and then we take our time before leaving. We stop off at the dining hall too before going into the stadium. Annie has her phone out, texting Madge to figure out which section they ended up in. The student section stretches out from about the thirty or forty yard line around the end zone to the field goal post.

"They're in front of the dance team about halfway up."

We head up that way and before long we see Madge waving to us. She pushes down the bench a little so we can stand on the bleacher beside her and the rest of the row shuffles. Behind and next to her are some of the boys.

Madge, Annie, and I have been friends since the first weekend of freshman year. Madge and I were randomly assigned as roommates and Annie lived on our floor. It wasn't until mid- to late-October that we met Johanna. One of the girls we had been hanging out with at the time had gone to high school with Jo and pulled her into our large group that was heading to a football game because she had yet to find a group of girlfriends. Ultimately, our large group split ways as freshman year progressed, as happens, and Johanna fit well with us.

What Johanna brought with her were the Bellarmine boys. At the time there were like ten or twelve of them, all on the same floor of Bellarmine Hall, and Johanna had somehow worked her way into their friend group. Now there's really only six left from the original group that live together in a Townie and we're still decent friends with them. They're the boys we tend to go to sports events with and who we (or Annie, Madge, and Johanna) partied with for the most part until they all started to go abroad last year.

Most of them are standing with Madge now. Dalton Harris and Craig Mitchell are standing behind her while the twins, Castor and Pollux Chatham-Henson, stand beside her. All four of them are decked out in our school's colors.

"Hey!" Dalton says, reaching over to give Annie an awkward hug. Then he turns to me and does the same. I can smell the beer in his breath. "You missed our tailgate!"

"We'll come next time," Annie says.

He points and smiles, trying to wink but not really achieving it. "You better."

I turn to Madge, leaving Annie with Dalton and his clear intoxication. "Where's Jo?"

"She went to go grab free stuff from the concourse." She leans in a little closer to me. "You okay?"

I nod. "Yeah," I say. "You guys were right. I feel better being out here."

She wraps her arms around me and smiles. "I'm glad."

Looking out around the stands, I actually do feel really good. Peeta told me to take advantage of everything and I want to do that. I don't want to spend my senior year feeling bad about what happened. It hurts and I think it will always hurt a little bit, but I can't spend the next two years wishing Peeta were here because it's not going to happen and that is only going to make me miserable. I just have to be thankful for what I have and know that the future will bring him back.

Of course, it's harder to be that optimistic than it seems.

"I'm back, bitches!"

I roll my eyes and turn away from the game. Johanna is back, gold beads around her neck, a free towel swinging in her hand, and gold sunglasses with Panem City University printed on the side. She takes up the bleacher next to Dalton and passes me a set of beads.

"For you, brainless." Then she turns and shakes her head. "Shit. I lost 'em."

"They'll find their way back," Castor says.

"Yeah!" Dalton cheers. "I see them."

It's almost like out of a scene of a bad eighties movie. Just as the band starts to play the first down theme, the crowd seems to open to let the two remaining boys through. Thom takes up the place besides Johanna and nabs the bandana off her head, which she retaliates with a punch to the arm.

Gale stands next to him and smiles at me. "Hey, Catnip, long time no see."

When we first met, Gale Hawthorne and I bonded quickly over the fact that we were both from the South in a school dominated by people from New England, New York, and New Jersey. Slowly he became my closest friend in the group. I missed him when he went abroad last spring and I bite my lip when I realize that I didn't talk to him as much I told him I would. I got a little preoccupied.

"How was Paris?" I ask.

He grins. "Amazing," he says. "Let's get lunch tomorrow and we'll talk more."

I nod my head and turn back to the game. But I don't really care about this football game, so once our team is getting slaughtered, I sit down on the bleacher and pull out my phone to check my email and maybe play a game to two, trying to ignore Johanna's shouts down to the field. My school email has a few new messages and my breath catches a little when I see that I have a new email from Finnick. I click on it immediately.

_**Fwd: Peeta's blog**_

**Finnick Odair**  
to me

Hey Katniss,

Peeta's dad sent us the link for the blog that his program set up for them while they're in Ecuador. I thought you might like to have it.

Hope you're doing well. Tell Annie and the rest that I say hey.

-Finnick

_On Friday, August 29, 2014 9:56 PM, "Peter Mellark" wrote:_

Hello boys,

I hope this message finds all of you well. I know it must be weird for you all to not be preparing to move back to school for the year. My older sons found that to be an odd feeling when they left school and joined the 'real world.'

Peeta just messaged us and he wanted us to send you all his regards. He says he's having a great time so far. They landed in Ecuador on the 16th and spent a few days in Quito before traveling to Guayaquil. They each have their own separate blog that they're going to try updating as much as possible, but Peeta has said that their internet access is spotty and they're very busy in the community. He's aiming for once a week. His is on Tumblr and his username is thirdpetermichael.

If you're ever in the area, stop by the bakery and keep us updated on your lives. We wish you all well with your endeavors.

-Pete

I shouldn't. I know that I shouldn't. Finnick must realize how hard these last few weeks have been for me. But he wouldn't have forwarded the email to me if he thought it would hurt me anymore, right?

I click the hyperlink.

It pops up in a new window on my phone. The top cover photo for the blog is an airplane above the clouds and his icon picture is of himself – what looks to be the Heridas Santas taken picture. I may have stalked the website during that awful first week and noticed that they posted each volunteer's name and picture in a list of current volunteers. The title he's given to his blog is "This Being Human is a Guest House" and it makes me smile because I know that comes from one of his favorite Rumi poems. Under that, he has a little biographical paragraph: _For the next two years of my life, I will be living and working in Guayaquil, Ecuador, as a volunteer with Heridas Santas. Come take this journey with me!_

So I do.

He already has quite a few entries so I thumb all the way down to the bottom, where the entry is titled: Goodbye, New Jersey. He has a photograph he's taken of Newark, New Jersey, that he must have taken as they ascend into the air.

_**August 1, 2014**_

_It's been real. It's been fun. It's been real fun. But, NJ, I think it's time we see other people._

_Ever since I was a little kid, I dealt with stress by having a sense of humor. It was something that annoyed my parents to no end. When I tripped during my first communion, I told a joke to the priest. When I came in second in the state wrestling tournament, I shrugged it off with another joke. I can even hear my mother now - __can't you ever be serious?!__(Sorry, Mom!) _

_Using this sense of humor is how I got through a lot of these last few weeks, where it seemed like everyone I saw was saying things like, 'if I don't see you, have a great time' or 'I'm sure I'll see you before you go, but if I don't…'_

_Some goodbyes were harder (much harder) than others. Graduation day went by in a blur as I said goodbye to all of my roommates in some sort of sleepless haze at 5:30am as we were all trying to nap for an hour or two before getting up for the ceremony. I called each and every one of them that night after everything hit me and I spent numerous hours on the phone with them again this past week. Saying goodbye to Katniss was probably the worst thing I've ever had to do. Having to press end on my last phone call with her and leaving my family at Newark are both right up there in I-don't-want-to-talk-about-it territory._

_I'll admit that I shed tears, a lot of tears, this week and wondered more than once whether I was doing the right thing. Leaving the United States for two years is going to be life-changing and I just have to know that God is sending me on this journey for a reason. When I applied to this program, I felt called in a way I didn't when I applied to other, often shorter duration, programs. There is a reason for this - I just have to be ready to see it._

_So it's been real, guys, but now it really is time for me to see other people ;)_

I scroll back up to get to the next entry.

**The Final Countdown**

_**August 13, 2014**_

_In two days, our orientation will end and all the volunteers that I've come to know and love will be spread out across Central and South America. It's hard to know that I'm going to have to once again say goodbye to some pretty amazing people, but at least this time I get to take a good core group with me. _

_This core group is the community that I will live with in Ecuador for the next two years. There will be ten of us in all, five in each of the Heridas houses. My community consists of Jack Messalla, or Messer as we've come to know him, and the lovely ladies: Delly, Eni, and Atala. It's a pretty solid crew, if I do say so myself. Our house is located just north of Guayaquil. _

_Two days. Let's do this._

Peeta told me before he left a little about what his community would be like. He knew who he was living with and talked to them a few times, but that was basically it. It's good to know that he's getting along good with them. Then again, I never doubted that Peeta would ever not get along with anyone. He's one of those kinds of people that just clicks with everyone he meets. I continue on my read through his posts.

**Away We Go**

_**August 15, 2014**_

_It's finally time. _

_All fifteen of us are getting ready to go to Miami International to board a flight to Quito. As the only one completely ready to head out, I'm taking these few last moments to post._

_I've taken my last hot shower and slept in air conditioning for the final time. I've packed all the documentation that I'll need to get through customs and live in Ecuador for the next two years. As utterly terrifying as it is, I'm so glad that it's time._

_Once we arrive in Quito, we'll have a chance to explore and just be tourists for a few days before we board a bus and travel upwards of nine hours to Guayaquil, when we'll finally meet the communities that we'll be living and serving in. I can't wait to finally step down and be in-country, go through customs and be able to say 'I'm here!'_

_Once I'm in Ecuador, I'm not sure how often I'll be able to blog, but I'll try my hardest to keep all of you updated._

_Adios, USA!_

As I scroll back up to the next post, I notice this one has a few pictures, so I read through the entry and then stop to look at the pictures.

**We Make Plans and God Laughs**

_**August 17, 2014**_

_So, guys, I'm going to be lazy. Messer made a pretty good blog post about our time in Quito, so I'm just going to copy-and-paste some of it with his permission here. _

_"Hola! We have touched down in Quito, Ecuador. How exciting is that? It took us a while to get through customs and after that all we really wanted to do was sleep! We ate dinner at a small local place before calling it a night. _

_Since we only have a few days in Quito before going to Guayaquil, we wanted to pack as much in as we can. We had breakfast and then tried to navigate the public transportation system. Yikes, do you think people could tell we were stupid American tourists?_

_No, well, our agenda might then. We headed over to the equator because obviously that is the first order of business for stupid American tourists like us. We had to get it out of our system before we try to assimilate into life in Ecuador. Each of us got a picture with our feet on each side of the line. There is a whole little exhibit at the equator, called La Mitad del Mundo. We took a tour of the museum, a very tall monument that marks the line dividing the northern and southern hemispheres, and got to look out over Quito from the top. It was quite the scenic view and a great way to start our time here! _

_We also wanted to see Old Town Quito and man was that worth it. A lot of walking, but definitely a beautiful part of the city. The old architecture was to die for - so stunning! We took so many pictures I haven't even gotten a chance to really look at them all!_

_Tomorrow we will drive to Guayaquil and there we will meet the volunteers whose positions we will be taking. They'll stay with us (or we'll stay with them really) until they leave to head back to the States on Friday. Then we're on our own!"_

_So that's what we've been up to and I planned to write a great synopsis of it, but you know the saying: we make plans..._

In Messer's part, there are a bunch of pictures. There's a picture of a large group of maybe nine or ten people at a large monument. The caption mentions that they're at the equator. There's another picture with just four of them, of Peeta and the girls with their feet on either side of the equator line. Under the picture, Messer wrote: "Our resident ladies man and his chicas ;)"

With my fingers, I zoom in so I can see the picture better. It's been months since I've seen Peeta because I was good and avoided his Facebook during our texting only gradual breakup. He's front and center of the group, the girls all poking out from behind him. He's doing his typical goofy stance that he does for pictures when he isn't being serious – his arms bent so his hands are near his chest, giving two thumbs up, and his elbows are out looking like wings. His mouth is open, his pale eyebrows are raised up into his hairline, and his eyes are wide. There's a burgeoning sunburn covering his cheeks and nose. He looks good. He looks really good.

After putting the screen back to normal, I scroll down quickly to see more pictures. There are a few of them at what look to be monuments and churches, and traditional looking South American architecture.

I scroll up to the last entry. This also has a few pictures. It starts with a picture of ten kids in t-shirts and shorts. Peeta is standing off to the side, his arms around a tall dark-haired guy with glasses and an average-looking blonde girl with a big smile and red sunburn on her seemingly pasty skin. I recognize the two girls kneeling in front of them from the picture at the equator. Those four must be Peeta's actual housemates.

**Adios Quito, Hola Guayaquil**

_**August 20, 2014**_

_On Monday we woke up early and packed up our belongings before heading to the bus terminal. We met up with the entire program to travel from Quito to Guayaquil after having spent most of our time in our housing groups. It was great to see the others again and get to know our greater community while we waited for the bus to board. Once we get to Guayaquil, we'll be both a part of our house community and the larger community of volunteers, so getting to spend some time with them was great. We had dinner the night before for the first time since we landed in Quito and knew we'd get some bonding time on the trip._

After the first paragraph, he inserted a few pictures of them on the bus. There's one where the other guy and two of the girls are looking out a window. Then there's a selfie of Peeta and the pasty blonde girl from the first group picture captioned: 'five hours in – are we crazy yet?'

_The bus ride from Quito to Guayaquil is a long one! 9 hours! But it definitely allowed for a lot of bonding time and a good chance for us to practice our Spanish with native speakers. I was sitting near the front with Delly and the two of us were right behind a young family. We had fun playing games with their daughter, who was 22-months-old and such a ham. _

_The scenery is absolutely stunning. Ecuador is such a beautiful country. I often found myself staring out the window in amazement. How could I actually be here in this place? Sometimes I think that I'm going to wake up and be back at home in New Jersey and this whole thing is just a big dream._

_When we arrived in Guayaquil, our program coordinators, Donna and Jose, were there to meet us. There are two separate volunteer houses in Guayaquil and they took us in large vans. The houses are all in the same neighborhood, just a few streets away from each other, which is really nice. We were dropped off at our house and got a good chance to look around before Donna and Jose came back over to grab us. We were having dinner together with all the volunteers as a welcome. We went to a restaurant in the neighborhood and were given a very warm greeting by the current volunteers, who were already there. _

_Meeting and being able to hang out with the current volunteers has been such a great experience. They've been able to tell us so much about what it's like as well has teach us what we need to know. There's so much we need to learn before we start work - from different cultural customs to how to cook for five people on ten dollars a day._

_These next few days are going to be busy as we try to learn as much as we can from the volunteers before they head home so the next time you hear from me will probably be after I start working. _

_Chao!_

He hasn't updated since. But just reading through those few entries makes me feel closer to Peeta than I've felt in a while. Even just looking at his little face icon and the few pictures that he's posted makes my heart swell in a way that almost embarrasses me.

"Katniss? You okay?"

I look up to see both Annie and Madge looking down at me. They both look concerned so I quickly press the home button and my screen leaves Peeta's blog, hiding it behind the little square apps. Annie and Madge don't need to know what I just did. They wouldn't like it.

"Yeah, I'm just bored."

Madge nods her head and hops off the bleacher. "Me too. Wanna head out? We can get ice cream before all the stadium lets everyone out and it gets mobbed."

I nod in agreement and we leave Johanna with the boys, all of them still screaming with the rest of the crowd as the refs make calls that aren't in our favor but are actually probably right. Madge, Annie, and I stop at the little ice cream shop just off campus before going back up to our dorm. Madge and Annie do most of the talking while we're there and they don't try to make me talk too often, which I'm thankful for because my head is still on Peeta. I know that it's not good but I just can't stop thinking about it.

When we're back in the dorm, I open up the page on my laptop. His blog has links on the side to his other housemates' blogs. I bookmark the page so it's easy to get to in my internet window and then shut my laptop before Annie or Madge can see and tell me that this isn't a good idea. Finnick wouldn't have given me the link if he thought following it would be a bad thing for me.

...

_Gale Hawthorne [sent 12:43pm]: Hey sorry I just got up. Do you still wanna get lunch?_

_Sure. Meet you in like 15 minutes? [Delivered 12:43pm]_

_Gale Hawthorne [Sent 12:44pm]: Yep sounds good_

I exit out of messages and look up at the doors hoping that Gale will walk in any minute. I sit down on the steps that lead to the upper level of the dining hall and fiddle with my phone again. I click the Tumblr app that I downloaded last night in some sleepless haze when I thought it would be a good idea to make an account and actually follow Peeta's blog, as well as the other four blogs. Those are the only five I'm following right now so the posts are just the ones I read yesterday. None of them have updated.

"Hey!"

I look up and click out of the app. Gale and I walk in and grab our food. Because it's a weekend, the dining hall is still serving breakfast so most of the students are going for the greasy home fries and breakfast sandwiches in hopes of curing their hangovers. Gale goes straight to the omelet line, so I tell him I'm going to go get a table once I have my food. A lot of the tables are full but I finally manage to get a booth near the window. I text him the location and spend the next few minutes looking out the window at the Townies.

"That took forever," Gale says when he slides in across from me.

I shake my head. "It's okay. It wasn't that long." I lean forward. "So, tell me about Paris."

Gale spent the spring semester in France and I saw a few pictures that came up on my newsfeed on Facebook. We told each other that we'd Skype, but never did. Just a few messages, bad time zone separated conversations, and we basically lost touch. I feel kind of bad about it, but it's in the past. I can't change it now. Instead, I get the whole trip in a small synopsis – the time effective way, I guess.

He smiles as he finishes. "It was great. I really loved it, but in a way I'm glad to be back, you know?" he says. "You miss a lot here when you're gone." Then he takes a forkful of his food and raises his eyebrows in my direction. "Like the fact that you had a boyfriend."

"What?" I sputter. "How did you know?"

He rolls his eyes. "You do realize your Facebook is public, right?" he jokes. "Any time I went to message you I saw 'in a relationship with' and, plus, you have never once had a profile picture with a guy before that wasn't your dad. Not even me. So fess up."

I hate social media.

"There's not much to tell," I say. "He was a senior. He graduated. We broke up. The end."

Just from the look on his face I can tell he notices the way that I tense up and the words sound like they're being pried out of my mouth. But luckily he doesn't try to pull anymore out of me. He just nods, takes another bite, and then sets his fork down.

"Well, Madge might have told me last night that you also turned into quite the little partier," he says, grinning. "Katniss Everdeen, what happened to you while I was gone? Underage drinking. Partying. I even hear you used a fake id to get into a bar–"

"That never happened."

He shakes his head. "Of course, I figured Jo was exaggerating," he says. "But the rest of it is true?" When I don't answer, he smirks. "You have zero excuses now on why you can't come to our parties. You're legal. You drink. You have to come next weekend. Please?"

"I have a thesis."

"So do I," he says. Of course he does. Gale is writing his thesis on political patterns or something. He mentioned that in one of the messages we exchanged while he was abroad. It's not like mine, but he's in the Honors program so it's an even bigger deal. He has to write one to graduate, whereas mine is just an invitation because of my GPA.

"Fine," I say. "I'll come once, but just because it's you. If Dalton spills any beer on me I'm out."

He laughs. "I'll keep you away from him."

...

As it would happen, our football team wins the next weekend against Clemson, which may be the biggest fluke of the year. Every news channel is in complete shock and the story even takes a place on the Yahoo homepage, taking precedent over its array of stories focusing on celebrity gossip and scandal. Campus, of course, goes crazy and the Townies just never quit. The music is so loud I can hear it from our dorm across campus. They take a little break around dinner time and then around ten or so they're back at it.

I am so not ready for this.

Getting ready doesn't take me as long as it does for Madge, Annie, and Johanna. The three of them spend at least an hour on their outfits alone, changing between three and ten times before they finally like what they're wearing. I just threw on a shirt, a pair of jeans, and flip flops that I don't care enough about – that way if I end up getting beer spilled on them it's not a big deal. Instead, I spend my time trying to relax and mentally prepare myself for being in a sweaty hotbox.

When Madge told Gale that I became 'quite the little partier' last year, she conveniently forgot to tell him that it was mostly because I had Peeta with me and we never stayed the whole time. If we were drunk we went upstairs to his room and if we were relatively sober we went back to mine to watch a movie in the quiet. Crowded Townies, even with Peeta, still sort of made me anxious and I'm not looking forward to this. I figure I can go for a little bit and then pull the 'I have get up early to go to the library and work on my thesis chapter' excuse when I want to leave.

My newsfeed on Facebook isn't too interesting. A few people I went to high school with always post pictures of their babies. Another girl just got engaged. Prim is overly active and posted thirty-five new pictures to her Mobile Uploads album. I roll my eyes at the majority of them. Most are selfies she took at the usual bonfires that happen on the weekends. I never went to them, but Prim is constantly posting pictures. I love Prim to death, but we can't be more different. The majority of my 'friends' from college are posting about the win, even the ones who don't care about football in the slightest.

Suddenly Peeta's name pops up on my screen.

My stomach tenses and my throat tightens for a minute. I quickly look over to see if he's online, but he's not. He never is. He was just tagged in a photo.

_Peeta Mellark was tagged in Delly Cartwright's cover picture. _

I click on it and the picture gets larger on my screen. Peeta and his pasty blonde housemate are standing in front of a sign for Escuela Santa Narcisa de Jesus. I focus on Peeta, who is standing to the left of the sign. He's been there for a while now and the sun has clearly caught up to him, but not in a terrible way. His face is a little red on his cheeks, but the rest of him looks like he's developing at least something of a tan.

I let out a breath. I miss him.

"Katniss, do you want to take a shot with us?" Johanna says as she walks into the kitchen.

I shake my head, my eyes still glued to the screen and my teeth clenching. It's irrational, but I'm jealous of his housemates. I follow their blogs as well as Peeta's because they all tend to mention each other and everyone has mentioned great things about Peeta. It's not like I doubted Peeta's ability to charm all of his housemates and I didn't want him to not make any friends, but...I miss him and I wish I could be the one talking about how Peeta has a stray dog that follows him everywhere or how all the kids adore him.

The couch shifts and I look next to me out of the corner of my eye. Johanna grabs my laptop and eyes the screen for a few seconds before logging me out.

"Hey!"

She shuts my laptop and puts it on the table we have in front of the couch. "Stop stalking him."

"I'm not stalking him."

Johanna gives me a dubious look. "Honestly, you just need a one-night stand," she says. "You can get Peeta out of your head and you can get laid. It's a win-win."

"I can't do that!" I shake my head and cross my arms, turning away from her. "I've only slept with Peeta."

She snorts. "Exactly. And that has to change sometime unless you plan on being celibate for the rest of your life."

"Not the rest of my life," I mumble. But it's useless. She is much more comfortable with the idea of meeting a guy at a party and having sex with him than I am. Sex is something that I've only shared with Peeta and that connection is still very important to me.

This time last year I wouldn't even be thinking like this. I'd be watching the three of them get ready, throwing in a movie when they left, and spending a good night in. But I suppose a lot can change in a year.

"Do you want to take a shot with us?" Johanna asks, her voice less abrasive.

Before I can answer, Madge's voice floods through the dorm. "Jo! Have you poured the shots yet?"

"Yeah! How long does it take to do your damn hair?"

Madge comes skipping down the hallway, stopping to look in the full length mirror we have hanging on one of the closet doors. She yanks on one of the curls she's done and groans.

"I hate my hair!" she whines. "I used almost an entire can of hairspray and it's still falling out!"

Annie follows and laughs, tugging a curl as she walks by her. "You'll just end up putting it up when you get hot anyway," she says. She turns to me. "Are you taking shots with us?"

"Yes, she is," Johanna says. "Now come on. I told Thom we'd be there in ten minutes and we're still sober."

"They should know by now that we're always late," Annie says as we walk into the kitchen. "We can just blame Madge."

"Wait for me!" Madge shouts, still in front of the mirror. She's putting her hair into some half-up, half-down style.

Jo rolls her eyes. "Well then hurry up, Miss Priss, or you're starting with round two."

Eventually we leave. I trudge a few steps behind the three of them, my head feeling fairly light but my mind spinning from earlier. I don't want a one-night stand. I know that technically I'm no longer in a committed relationship with Peeta, but I still feel committed to him and I have no desire to sleep with someone else. To be honest, I think the best way for me to get over the fact that I won't see Peeta for two years isn't by hooking up with some random dude but by throwing myself into my thesis and schoolwork.

Which I will be doing. Starting tomorrow.

The party is everything I remember them being – loud, hot, and crowded. One section of the Townie is full of people standing and dancing with solo cups or cans of beer. The kitchen has a table set up with beer pong. I knew already that Gale and his roommates had a bar that they brought with them. Thom's older brother had a Townie two years ago and they built one for their parties, which they ultimately passed down to Thom and his roommates. Pollux is standing behind it, a laptop plugged into a set of massive speakers. I pull my phone out of my pocket to check the time, trying to figure out how soon is too soon to make my getaway.

"Bored already?"

I look up to find Gale standing over me. He's holding a beer and takes a sip before pushing it in my direction. I shake my head. Peeta couldn't even get me to drink beer. I stick my phone back in my pocket and when I look back up I see that Gale hasn't moved. He's still standing over me, looking down with a weird look on his face.

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

He shrugs and leans down so he doesn't have to yell for me to hear him. "I guess I'm just shocked that you're here."

"I told you I'd come."

Again he shrugs and takes a long drink from his beer. "You did." He nods to the kitchen. "Wanna play?"

"I'll watch."

Johanna is already over there, sandwiched between Dalton and Castor. They finish up that game and Gale hops in. Madge takes the spot right next to him and Annie comes to stand beside me. We watch for a few rounds. I get bored though and pull out my phone, clicking the Tumblr app just to see. Peeta hasn't updated again. I read through his last post.

"Do you want a drink?" Annie asks. I look up from the selfie Peeta posted a few weeks ago while on the bus and nod my head. Maybe it will help me relax.

She disappears and I put my phone back in my pocket, watching as Madge completely dive bombs in this game. It takes her forever to flip her cup.

I look around at everyone here, wondering how they can all be having fun. Am I abnormal for feeling this way? Given just the statistical odds, there's bound to be a person or two in this room who just broke things off with someone, and yet I'm the only outwardly miserable. How do they do it? Do they just put it behind them and have fun or do they still feel broken and bruised but put on a smile that fools even themselves? Whatever they're doing, I want to try it.

"Here."

I grab the cup from Annie and take a sip. I enjoy Annie's mixed drinks – they never taste like alcohol. Jo and Madge tend to put three parts vodka to each part juice, but Annie is much more conscious about taste. I sip on it and pull out my phone again once Annie gets asked to dance. I open the Facebook app and go to Peeta's page. His profile picture is of him and Finnick on graduation day, a selfie they took as they listened to the commencement speaker, he told me. Peeta's hood was bright blue, signifying his degree from the school of education, and it just made his eyes that much brighter even though I can't see them in the picture. They both have sunglasses on because it was so sunny that day. I flip through the rest of his profile pictures. I'm in the next three – one kissing his cheek, one of us just being goofy, and one out in the city that we took while we were out on a date.

The fact that I'm tipsy doesn't help me while I look through the pictures. It just makes me miss him more and I feel my eyes welling with tears. I need to get out of here.

I look up to try and find the others. Annie is long gone, lost in the mass of people somewhere in the Townie. Flip Cup has turned into Slap Cup and Madge may be worse at this game than she is at the other, but at least Dalton has taken to drinking for her. Gale is looking at me from his place at the table. He mouths, "you okay?" and when I shake my head he leaves his spot, walking behind Madge and Dalton to get to me.

He says something but I can't hear him over the cheers that erupt from the table when Madge finally manages to pass her cup and Ping-Pong ball to someone else. Gale pulls out his phone and his thumb flies over the screen, clearly sending some sort of text message, and then he guides up the stairs to his and Thom's room, shutting the door to somewhat block the music.

"What happened?" he asks, guiding me to his bed so I can jump up and he can follow.

My head is spinning. I miss Peeta.

I must say this aloud because his arms tighten around me for a moment and he sighs. "I know," he says. "It sucks."

Time doesn't exist. I'm not entirely sure how long I'm crying on him, but it must be a while. It's only when Gale shifts to get into a more comfortable position and I lift my head that I realize I've left wet marks on his shirt. His eyes look almost as pained as mine feel and he presses his lips to my forehead.

"It'll get easier, Catnip," he says. His voice is so calculated that it sounds as though he's talking from experience. "I promise."

There's a quick knock on the door and Annie sticks her head in. She sighs and walks over to us, taking my hands in hers. "Oh, sweetie," she says. She turns to Gale. "Thanks for texting me. We'd have been looking all over for her."

"Don't worry about it."

Annie turns to me and smiles. "Hey, honey, do you want to come with me? Madge and Jo are waiting for us downstairs and we're gonna go back home now. Okay?"

Under other circumstances, I might have told Annie that I'm not drunk enough for her preschool teacher voice. But I'm too exhausted for that right now, so I just nod and let her lead me.

...

As to avoid another situation like what happened at Gale's, I throw myself into my work. I manage to get the first chapter of my thesis done a week before the deadline, much to the shock of Dr. Heavensbee, my advisor, and spend the majority of my free time in the library. My roommates don't push me to go out with them when I decline. I think they're scared to get me drunk again, fearing that I'll turn into an emotional nightmare at some bar. But I'm fine not going with them. It brings me back to my pre-Peeta days, when I would have my alone time on the weekends – just me and Madge's excessive collection of DVDs. It's a good thing.

I do still check to see if Peeta has updated. He finally does at the end of September, for the first time since August. It opens with a gif of Desi Arnez – _Lucy, you got some splainin' to do!_

_**September 27, 2014**_

_So apparently I'm a pretty terrible blogger._

_It's been a month since I've last posted anything and I'm sorry for not updating more. I don't really have any excuses, just some stories to show you what I've been doing instead._

_Many of you knew that I was going to be teaching while I was here. I've had my class for almost a month now and I now want to take this time to apologize to my sixth grade teacher. Kidding – these kids are awesome. It's overwhelming, knowing that I'm responsible for these little brains, but in the best possible way. It has truly been amazing and I am so excited be here, doing this._

_My class at Escuela Santa Narcisa de Jesus has twelve boys and fourteen girls who live in one of the poorest neighborhoods in the area. Without this school, run by a fabulous group of nuns, I really worry about where these kids would be. While they often make me want to pull my hair out, they're truly some of the most inspirational people I've met here. I can't even put into words how much joy it gives me to go into work each and every day. They're thirteen-year-olds so by nature they're little shits, but I couldn't ask for a better group._

_The only problem is, once school ends, they tend to head out into the streets. This isn't safe. The neighborhood they live in is not where kids need to be. So, I asked the nuns if it would be okay if I, and a few of my other volunteers, could put together some sort of after school program. The money just isn't there to do this through the school, but as volunteers we can do this for a much more minimal cost. All we asked for were a few soccer balls. Our tournament started last week and it's a huge success so far. By the time I finish with them at the end of the day, I'm completely beat! _

_This last month has literally flown by and I'm already dreading saying goodbye to these kids. I now understand why it's a two-year commitment to do this program – it gives them a little more stability, rather than a teacher turnover every year. There's a teacher here who was a Heridas volunteer in 2008, and six years later she's still here. It's been amazing to talk to her and see how much this experience has shaped her. Rosa, her real name is Rosemary but the kids call her Rosa, is a great resource for us and she's actually going to take a group of us on a long weekend trip that's coming up to a community that she travels to every few weeks._

_So yeah, I've been super busy at the school and with the kids that my own housemates complain that they never see me! But I'll try to update more. Thank you to everyone who sent me messages as well! I'll try to get to those too, but know that I've read them all. Your encouragements and well wishes keep me going._

I've debated sending him a message multiple times, but I don't want him to feel like he has to deal with me missing him when he's thousands of miles away. It'll just make him feel bad that I'm hurting so much and, to be honest, it's my own fault. I shouldn't have texted him at the airport in May.

Hindsight's twenty-twenty.

I don't regret it though.

He posted that update a few weeks ago. The cool fall weather has now made its way to campus and foliage is at its peak. Sometimes I sit on one of the benches outside the science building between my classes, admiring the way the leaves change color. The deep reds and vibrant oranges remind me of Peeta. These are some of his favorite colors and I'm not sure if leaves change in Ecuador, but if they don't I imagine that he must be missing this a lot. He once told me that of all the seasons he liked autumn the best.

I have classes on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, while on Tuesdays and Thursdays I'm working with Dr. Heavensbee in the lab. With exam workloads beginning, even my weekends become extraordinarily busy and this helps me. I don't think I'll ever truly forget about Peeta, but it's easy to let him slip from my mind when I'm isolating proteins in the lab or studying for an exam. It's everywhere else that reminds me of him. It has become a routine for me to check his blog every time I open an internet browser, even if I've already checked multiple times that day. I know he's busy and his updates are few and far between, but I don't want to miss any. Sometimes I get really desperate and I look at the blogs of his housemates to see if they've mentioned him. Sometimes they do – certain people are more thorough and include more than others.

Delly, the pasty blonde girl who I think will be sunburned for the next two years, mentions him a lot.

Granted, she mentions everyone a lot, so I try to quell the bubbling in my stomach every time she writes about him. But she's one of those bloggers who will write down in minute detail what she had for lunch on Tuesday and exactly what happened at 2:43pm on Wednesday – it must take her hours each week to update her blog and sometimes I like to blame her for why Peeta doesn't update because she must hog their only computer. I know that's irrational. I know Peeta and I know he's much more likely to overextend his time at the school than he is to write on a blog, but sometimes it makes me feel better to have someone to blame.

It's around this time that Madge and Annie start to drop little hints about my hermit behavior. I just shake them off when they casually bring up that I never go anywhere with them and tell them that I just don't want to go out to bars or drink because I have to be on my A game. They accept it, but I see them watching me.

Gale asks me to come to another one of his parties and tells me that it'll be more fun this time around. I don't give him an answer.

Halloween, the most sacred of college holidays, falls on a Friday and it has even the most outwardly non-religious praising God for the miracle. When Madge begins to mention themed outfits, I know that I won't be able to get out of it indefinitely. I will at the very least have to go out with them once during the weekend. Every year, Madge brings her old dance costumes to school after the Columbus Day weekend. Because of this we have no shortage of things to wear, but Madge is dead set on all of us coordinating to Gale's Townie's costume party that Saturday. After a week of bickering back and forth, we end up wrapped in duct tape as the four seasons. I choose to be autumn and my dress is made from yellow and brown duct tape, with fake changing leaves stuck on it in what Madge insists is a cute edging. Johanna is wrapped in white tape with fake snowflakes stuck to her while Madge and Annie are both in varying shades of blue – Madge in sky blue with flowers for spring and Annie with dark blue and a sun detail and palm tree created out of construction paper and taped on with clear packing tape for summer. It is the most uncomfortable thing that I've ever worn in my entire life, but I do it to appease Madge.

I decide that getting very drunk may make it that much more tolerable.

Since the disaster at Gale's back in September, I haven't had anything to drink so I know I should take it easy. But when I still don't feel anything after four shots, I do two more and then hold the water bottle we have on our way across campus. Of course, the clear plastic blatantly shows that what's inside is anything but water.

I trip on the step in front of the Townie.

It's amazing how so many people can fit into one of these buildings. The music blares and within a few seconds of walking in I lose Madge, Annie, and Johanna. I'm surrounded by sweaty people. I walk to the wall and lean against it. They'll find me.

The music is so loud it rocks the entire house. I can feel it through the wall.

A boy stops in front of me. I'm sitting on the couch.

I have another drink in my hand.

"Hey!"

He says his name too but I miss it.

"Katniss."

He says some things but I'm not really paying attention. I can't really follow what he's saying. It's too loud. He's talking too quietly. I nod along.

In the darkness I can't really tell what he looks like.

"Do you want to dance?"

I try to get my head to stop spinning for a moment and really focus on him. He's blond, but he doesn't look like Peeta. He's tall and gangly. I can hear Johanna in my head. _Go for it, brainless._

"I have a boyfriend."

"Is he here?"

Peeta is in Ecuador. He's probably sleeping now. I shake my head.

"It's okay then," the guy says. "He won't know."

He won't know. Peeta doesn't know anything about what I'm doing. He just has to hold onto the hope that I'll be here when he gets back. I wait for him.

I shake my head. I feel a hand on my arm. I get yanked in another direction. Madge is leading me through the house. "Don't get involved with him," she says. "He's in my class. He's a dick."

I stick close to Madge. She won't let go of my hand.

...

My head is pounding when I wake up. I roll over and look at my clock. It's already early afternoon. Madge is out of bed already and I can hear them talking in the common room. I get out of bed and grab some clothes. The duct tape dress from last night is on the floor, a shell of me with a cut up the back – most likely so I could get out of it. Ugh. I need to take a shower. I feel disgusting. So I take my towel and open the door, heading across the hall to the bathroom, only to stop when I hear my name.

"Yeah, Big Dick Rick was talking to her last night. That's why we left early. She was really drunk, I don't know if she'll even remember all the stuff she said when we got back. She might have blacked out."

"I can see why she'd be jealous," Annie says.

Jealous? What am I jealous of?

"I wish she'd just get over him," Johanna says. "She's going to spend her senior year depressed and he's not worth it. She'll end up regretting it."

I think I have an idea of what they're talking about and I don't really want to hear anymore of it, so I walk into the bathroom. I toss my towel on the ground and look in the mirror. I am a mess. My eyes are bloodshot. I still have the makeup I wore last night on.

I shut the door and turn on the water, letting everything wash away. I stay under the spray until my fingers have turned into prunes and then I make my way into the common room. It seems that in the time I've been in the shower, they've moved onto a different story from last night that doesn't have to do with me. I collapse into Madge's butterfly chair and listen to Johanna finish off her story about Dalton's strip tease on top of the beer pong table. It seems like everyone got really drunk last night.

"How are you feeling?" Annie asks.

"Hungover."

Johanna chuckles once. "Welcome to the club, brainless."

Madge stretches to put her legs over the footstool we keep in the common room. "Did you text Gale yet?"

"Gale?"

She nods. "He told you before he left to text him when you woke up," she says. I must give her a look of total confusion because she smiles. "You don't remember that he was here?"

I shake my head.

Johanna claps. "Oh, this is great!"

She's laughing now so hard that she has tears in her eyes. Annie glares at her.

Madge turns back to me. "Well, you didn't really want to leave last night, but this jerk Rick was, like, all over you so Gale sort of tricked you into leaving. But we were halfway back when you decided you wanted to take a nap in the Townie parking lot, so I called Gale and he tried to get you to stand up, but you weren't having any of it, so he carried you back," she says. "Luckily he came when he did because if the cops found us you would have been screwed."

I wince. "I was that bad?"

"Oh, no," Johanna says. "You were worse."

"How could it be worse?"

Madge frowns. "Well," she says, drawing it out. "You were kicking and screaming most of the way back. You got Gale pretty good in the nose and you felt so bad about it that you started crying. So he sat with you on the couch while I made you some food and you told him about Peeta. We made sure you ate, he left when Annie and Johanna came back, then after we cut you out of your dress, you puked and fell asleep. It's why our trash can is near your bed and not the door like usual."

I vaguely remember Gale now, but not really.

"Katniss, I know now isn't when you want to be talking about anything. You probably want to take a nap," Annie says. "But, if you want to talk about Peeta, we're here for you, okay? We can help you, but you have to let us."

All three of them nod in agreement and I feel like I'm in some sort of intervention. I nod and stand up. "I know," I say. "But right now I'm going to get a glass of water and go back to bed."

"Sure," Annie says. "We're going to the dining hall in a minute. Do you want anything?"

Just the idea of food makes me want to vomit. I shake my head and then turn back, grabbing a glass of water and going back to my room. Once I'm in the darkness, my eyes shut and I press my palms to my temples. I wonder what I said about Peeta that made them so concerned.

I'm thinking about Peeta playing with a group of his kids when I finally fall to sleep.

...

_How do you survive when your entire world is ripped out from under you? I keep thinking about a magician's trick, the one where the man pulls the cloth off the table in one swift motion and the plates chime for a moment but none of them fall. How do they stay standing? It's a question I find myself asking over and over again._

I look up from the page I'm reading and hand it back to Madge. "Yeah, I like that paragraph better than the one you had before too."

"Good," she says. "Lets hope my professor likes it."

"You still haven't finished that story?" Johanna yells from the kitchen. "You've been working on it forever!"

"It's half my grade!" Madge shouts back.

I roll my eyes and grab my laptop, tuning out their bickering. Madge is working on her fiction portfolio for her writing class. Half of the portfolio is poetry, which she completed midway through October. Now she's working on her fiction, which is supposed to be ten pages but her professor told her that the more she wrote the more she'd have to choose from when it came time to pass in ten pages of it. I think she has about thirty pages so far and she's been writing nonstop. Annie and I have become her proofreaders. Johanna stopped once Madge hit page eleven, not understanding why she's doing more.

I go to Peeta's blog quickly and see if he's written anything. I figure that he hasn't and I'm correct. He updated last weekend, telling everyone that he and a few of the other volunteers might go up to one of the mountain communities for the weekend sometime. Rosa, one of the former volunteers who now works at the school full time, is supposed to take them. I click on a few of the other blogs to see if they have any more information that I can piece together to see if they're actually going up, but Messer's blog says that the school he works for with Enobaria and Atala, the high school connected to the elementary/middle school that Peeta and Delly teach at, is having their play this weekend. So anyone who teaches at the high school won't be able to go.

They'll probably go another weekend instead, so I click on Delly's blog to see if she has any information because she probably does. But she doesn't.

I exit out of the internet and set my laptop down on the couch, looking instead at the television where Ross Gellar is complaining to the rest of the friends about someone at work eating his Thanksgiving sandwich.

It's a reminder that Thanksgiving is close. Which means the end of the semester is close too. It's only a few weeks until it's been one year since I made out with Peeta at a party and then slowly allowed him into my heart.

"I'm going to go to the library," I say, standing up and grabbing my laptop. "Anyone want to come?"

Johanna shakes her head as she plops down on the couch with a bowl of mac and cheese, but Madge nods her head. She needs to print her new draft.

Since my blackout night, I've been very careful to make my roommates not worry about me. I keep my feelings about Peeta being away hidden until I'm alone. They don't understand. I don't need a quick fuck or a new boyfriend or anything. I just need to survive for a year and a half. Then, Peeta will come back home and we can start again.

It's like a mantra. Or a prayer. It's how I survive – one day at a time.

I spend a good majority of my weekend in the library, but I don't get much work done. I keep stalking Peeta and his housemates' blogs, but no one updates. So then I end up trying to distract myself by taking Buzzfeed quizzes, but that just ends up reminding me of Peeta because we used to do that all the time. So then I pull up a playlist on YouTube of funny videos Madge sent me and I lose myself in those. It works to make me feel better, but doesn't help me make corrections to my thesis chapter.

On Monday I make it back to the dorm before anyone else. Madge has a late class and Johanna has a meeting for a club and Annie is at swim practice. I lie down on the couch and pull up my internet window, out of habit pulling up Peeta's blog first. Again, the last update is one I've already read a hundred times. The others have updated about the play they helped put on with their kids. So I check Delly to see if there's anything she wrote. She did.

She updated a few minutes ago and has a long post about their trip this weekend. Apparently, the other Heridas house was doing their silent retreat this last weekend and so they couldn't go either. Rosa just brought Delly and Peeta up. And Delly has no shortage of pictures. There are plenty of Peeta and the kids, and a few paragraphs about how much they love him. He played soccer with them in an open field behind the small school. They helped Rosa with her weekend English class, which didn't just serve the children but the entire community.

I take a few minutes to really look at a few of the pictures of him with the kids. His skin is a soft honey color now, his face covered in freckles, and – is that supposed to be a beard? It looks like he hasn't shaved in a while and his face is covered in patches of flaxen hair. Actually, it's more on his neck, I suppose. You can't really see any of the hair unless the picture is up close. There are a few of Peeta close enough to see his attempts at a beard, mostly with one or two of the kids. Occasionally Delly is in them too, smiling with a cute girl with pigtails between them. But there are plenty of pictures of Peeta and Delly together. Alone. My teeth are grating when I get to a picture of Delly holding a clump of grass. Next to it is one of she and Peeta laughing as she points to her ring finger.

_Yulitza, one of the eight-year-olds, asked Peeta and I if we were married. When we said no, she wanted to hold a wedding in the field and even picked me a bouquet of long grass to hold. How cute is she? We played along for a minute, but don't worry Mom and Dad, I'm not coming home a married woman!_

I can't finish. I shut my laptop and put it on the couch.

What just happened?

What did I read?

What is going on down there?

I have never hated anyone in my life like I hate Delly Cartwright in this moment. It's probably irrational. She said so herself – they played along. But eight-year-olds are smart enough to see whether people are acting like they're married or not. Delly should know that it's not her place to be joking like that. Peeta is already in a relationship – with me!

But he actually isn't. Not technically.

I feel like I'm going to be sick.

For a minute, I pace. I wander around barely able to breathe. But that's no use. I try to lie in bed but my head just won't turn off. It's spinning. I want the images in my head to disappear, poof away as easily as it was to turn off my laptop. So I go to the only place that is completely pitch black – the storage closet. No windows, no light, just a place to sob in peace.

Johanna comes back first. Her meeting must have been shorter than usual. She shouts into the apartment.

"Katniss? Are you here?"

I don't reply. I stuff my face into my knees.

I hear her sit down on the couch and turn on the television. She stuffs in one of the DVDs for the _The Office_. Before long, Steve Carrell's voice is echoing through the room. She chuckles every now and then.

Madge comes home sometime during the second episode.

"I will be so happy when that class is over," she says. I can hear her fall onto the couch. "Where's Katniss?"

"Probably the library."

"She left her laptop here."

"Maybe she got dinner with Gale?"

"No, I saw Gale when I was walking back from class. He was heading up to meet Thom in the library."

"She'll be back eventually," Jo says. "Aw, shit!" I hear her footsteps come closer to where I'm trying to hide in our storage closet. "Goddamn to-go containers. They need to switch back to the – holy fucking shit! Katniss, what the are you doing in here?"

I keep my head on my knees and try not to look up because I'm afraid if I do I'm going to start crying all over again.

Madge pushes passed Johanna and crawls into the storage closet beside me. It's a tight squeeze. It's really not big enough for two people with all the junk we have in here, but she wraps her arms around me and doesn't say anything. We don't need to – we've hit the point in our friendship where Madge understands what's going on with me sometimes before I do. Johanna turns around and I hear her stomping back toward the common room.

"Katniss! What's your password?"

I lift my head and Madge gives me a look. She must see how bad I look. I feel terrible. My eyes hurt. My throat is clogged.

"Katniss, tell me your goddamn password!"

I can't talk. Even though I can see where she's sitting on the couch and could open my computer for her, I can't do that either. Instead, I just lean my head on Madge's shoulder. She knows my password – and Johanna probably does too if she was thinking straight but right now she just looks so angry. Madge yells as quietly as she can to Johanna.

Then she turns her attention back to me, just holding me in her arms as Johanna probably begins reading everything I've just read.

"Do you want to get out of the closet?" Madge asks. I shake my head. "Okay, we'll stay here."

I can hear Johanna mumbling to herself as she reads. She grunts. She hisses. She's not happy. After awhile I hear her footsteps again and she comes to the closet. She has her hands in the air.

"Okay, Katniss, I'm done with this whole I'm-fine-I'm-handling-it-don't-worry-about-me façade. We let it go on long enough," she says. "This isn't healthy–"

"Johanna!" Madge hisses. "Is now really the time?"

"Yes!" Johanna says. "You and Annie coddling her and letting her live in this fantasy isn't helping her and maybe if she's this upset she'll finally see some reason!" I can vaguely hear something loud in the background. "I'm done with your theory of waiting for her to come to us. We know Katniss doesn't come to us for stuff like this!"

"What is going on?"

Annie materializes out of nothing, or at least it seems like that because how else could she have such perfect timing.

Johanna turns to her. "Peeta douchebag Mellark again! What else is new?"

Johanna is jerked out of the doorway. I shut my eyes tight, trying to disappear. Madge strokes my hair. We can still hear them talking.

"What happened?"

"Madge and I found Katniss in the fucking closet because of something some idiot wrote on a blog," Johanna says. She's actually seething as she explains Delly's post. I try to block that out.

"It's all probably some huge misunderstanding."

"Oh my _God_!" Johanna shouts. "All three of you are living in your asses! Why the fuck do you think he broke up with her before he left? Because he's a twenty-two-year-old guy, that's why! Having a girlfriend in another country that you can't see for two years sort of hurts the prospects of getting your dick wet!"

"Peeta's not like that," I say.

Madge nods and continues stroking my hair. "I know, sweetie."

"Johanna, calm down. This isn't doing anyone any good."

"No, I sat around long enough watching you tell her that he's a good guy. We all talked about this over the summer when Madge told us they were still talking and we all fucking agreed then so why is it different when we're actually talking to Katniss!" she screams. "It's not doing her any good. She's in a fucking closet crying over someone that we all keep telling her is a good guy."

Johanna lets out an angry groan or shriek. I'm not really sure what to call it.

"What sort of douchebag asks someone out when they know they're leaving the country? And then, when they decide to go their separate ways, he lets her keep texting him? He _knew_ he was her first boyfriend. He _knew_ she was too attached! He led her on emotionally because he knew it'd be easy to forget all about her as soon as he left the country so he might as well feel good until he takes off and then he leaves _us_ to pick up all these broken pieces while he's off unattached and able to fuck whatever one of those sluts he chooses!"

"Jo–"

"Katniss, he's not worth it!"

"Johanna!"

"What, Annie? What?" she squeals. "This is toxic behavior. It's toxic. And I'm scared! Okay? I'm scared for her!"

I turn my head up toward Madge. "Do you think he's bad?"

She sighs. "I think it's a bad situation," she says. She starts to play with my hair.

Annie manages to get Johanna to stop yelling and then comes over to the closet. She kneels down and gives us a smile, but I can see it's forced. The frustration in her eyes is so vivid you could probably touch it.

"Johanna and I are going to go to the Townie for a little while so she can chill out," Annie says. She's talking more to Madge than she is to me. "Are you going to be okay?"

Madge nods. "We'll text you if we need anything."

Annie gives me a quick glance and then stands up. I can hear her muttering to Johanna until the door shuts behind them.

"Do you want to get out of the closet now?" Madge asks. I feel like I should but I'm not sure I'd be able to right now. I don't think my legs will work. My entire body feels like jello. So I shake my head and Madge sighs. "Okay. We'll stay."

* * *

_Notes_

Okay, sorry that this chapter took so long to get up. I originally planned for five short chapters but then it really look a life of it's own.

The title of this chapter comes from the song _Something I Need_ sung by OneRepublic.

Saint Robert Bellarmine, S.J., from whom I took the name for the dorm Gale and his buddies lived in freshman year, was an Italian Jesuit and Cardinal of the Catholic Church. He died in 1621. As I said in the previous chapter's author's note, there are illusions that Panem City University is a Catholic institution. This is another one.

I have been to Quito, but it was many many years ago, and I have never been to Guayaquil, so much of it is based off research I've done online, reading blogs from volunteers in the program that I am basing Heridas Santas on. Escuela Santa Narcisa de Jesus, the school that Peeta and Delly teach at, is also based on a school this program sends its volunteers to.

Narcisa de Jesus Martillo y Moran was a Roman Catholic saint from Ecuador, a laywoman known for her charitable giving and her devotion to God. She actually began her mission of helping the poor and the sick, as well as caring for abandoned children, in Guayaquil, after she moved there in 1852 at age 19. I thought it was a fitting name for the school.

Yulitza was the name of a little girl I met while I was in Ecuador, doing service work while I was in high school. She was adorable and loved playing matchmaker. Yulitza in this story is based on her.

Again, I'm so sorry that this took 7+ weeks to update. My apologies. I hope this makes up for it.

Some formatting changes and additional lines will be found in the version on AO3. It doesn't affect the story, but if you read it on one or the other you will notice a slight different.

If you would like to follow me on Tumblr, the link is in my profile. I have the same username over there – dracoisalooker76.


End file.
